The Molossian
by jonnymoxley
Summary: Roman Reigns is heir to the family fortune but he's feeling a little lost in life, not sure of which direction he wants to go. His entire world gets turned upside down when his best friend Seth Rollins gains a pair of tickets to a highly exclusive, mysterious event called The Molossian. Roman/Dean.
1. Bad Things

"Come on, man...these tickets cost more than our college tuition combined. Can't we at least just see what it's all about?"

Roman Reigns glanced up from the screen of his phone to find his best friend, Seth Rollins, staring back at him pointedly. He was expecting an answer but it wasn't going to be one that he wanted to hear.

"I've never even heard of this Molossian thing, Seth." Roman's eyes flickered back down to his phone, typing away at the e-mail he had been attempting to finish for the last thirty minutes, since Seth showed up in his office raving about these tickets. "What did you say it was like? Boxing? How have we never heard of it if it's a legitimate sport?"

"My uncle said it was something only few would ever be able to afford," Seth was getting annoyed, Roman could hear the shift in his tone, "what does it matter? He said it's an experience we'd never forget. He went to his first Molossian when he was eighteen and he said he hasn't missed one since. Until now, he's going overseas and he passed the tickets down to me."

"Then why haven't we heard him talk about it before?" Roman asked, dropping his phone onto his desk with a perk of an eyebrow. He had known Seth since they were very young, the two families having agreed on a merger long ago on a chain of high end hotels. They were raised as close friends, Roman only having a year on Seth in age, and in all those years he hadn't heard the Molossian brought up once.

Seth fixed Roman with an exasperated look and he pushed himself up from the chair he had been lounging in, soothing his hands down over his button up shirt- a shirt that probably cost more than a normal car payment for most people. Roman wore fancy suits and expensive clothing when it was handed to him but fashion never quite sat well with him. Seth, on the other hand, had his own clothing line.

"Will you at least just consider it?" Seth asked, his tone admitting partial defeat but a look of concern sparked in his dark eyes, "When's the last time we went out and did anything fun, huh? Not since before the Bella fiasco."

Roman's gray eyes narrowed slightly, not wanting to have this whole conversation again. Nikki Bella, or as Seth referred to her- 'the Bella', was one part of the infamous socialites called the Bella Twins. They weren't really so bad, not really, but Nikki had basically put Roman's heart through the ringer during their two year relationship. Seth had never been her biggest fan and now took pleasure in dragging her name through the mud, while attempting to lure Roman into double dates at least a couple times a week. What else were best friends for?

Honestly, Seth was a good guy and had Roman's best interest at heart. He could tell Seth was worried about him and he needed to do a better job of being a good friend himself, in return.

"I'll think about it." Roman was done with that conversation before it began and Seth took the answer as a small victory, gave his best friend a salute and left him with his thoughts.

Ten minutes later Roman found himself scouring the internet on his phone for anything that mentioned The Molossian. He found some old articles about dog fighting in Ancient Greece, apparently Mollosus was a now extinct breed of dog created for battle, but nothing much more than that. Any other lead he thought he had found just led him to a dead end. Anything that had once existed on the internet about The Molossian had been deleted and disposed of.

Furrowing his brow at how odd this whole thing was, he decided to put it out of his head for now and concentrate on work. In about an hour his father was going to be bringing him in on a video conference call that he wasn't looking forward to so he needed to be on his game.

"Roman, as the sole heir of everything this family has worked so hard for." The booming voice of Sika Reigns on the other end of the line had Roman rolling his eyes. The conference call had gone alright but Roman couldn't concentrate to save his life and his father had noticed. "You have to take this seriously. This isn't a joke, this merger could determine your future, the future of your children and their children after them."

The Reigns family fortune had began years before his grandfather was even thought of, and yeah it was true that a lot of hard work went into building on that fortune but where did it end? They already owned three of the most successful hotel lines in the world- did they really need to be partners in an airline as well? Roman didn't think so. After spending nearly seven years in college becoming more savvy in the world of business in preparation of taking over someday, he wasn't even sure this is what he wanted at all. Everything had been handed to him on a golden platter since he was old enough to walk, he hadn't really had to work for anything his whole life. Friends were made through other rich families, parties were planned down to the very last detail. He had no control over anything it seemed. There was no adventure, everything was predetermined. Hell, they had even tried to marry him off to a girl from a wealthy European family. Getting with Nikki had sort of been his rebellion, much to the dismay of his parents, but even that had ended up out of his hands.

"You're not getting any younger either," the voice of Roman's father continued on the other end, "you're going to need to find a strong woman to settle down and start a family with. You know, your mother and I ran into Sasha the other day and she's turned into such a beautiful young woman."

"You told me already," Roman's tone was flat and uninterested, "listen, I have some things to finish up here so I should probably go."

"You need to start taking this seriously, Roman," there was a warning in that tone now and it made Roman shift uncomfortably in his leather desk chair, "I've made the mistake of not being very hard on you all these years."

"Yes sir," Roman wanted to wrap this up, "I'll speak with you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, son."

Ending the call with a deep sigh, Roman rubbed a hand over his face. He felt exhausted, emotionally and mentally drained, and like he needed a hot shower and stiff drink.

The home Roman lived in was beach front property off the Northern coast of California, on the outskirts of San Francisco. It was a beautiful place but not exactly the type of beach one would sunbathe on. It was more scenic, the jutting rocks and picturesque cliffs overlooking an often turbulent sea, with a backdrop of rich forest. It was the middle of summer and the fog would still roll in over the hills and settle across the valley. This was one of many properties the Regins family owned but it was Roman's favorite. He had ended up in San Francisco for college and never left, so he was allowed to live there, at least for now. His office allowed him to do whatever work his father gave to him, which wasn't much at the moment, but Roman knew this wasn't going to last long. Not with the way his father had been speaking to him lately. Who knew how this would be allowed before the rug was pulled out from under his feet. It was time to sink or swim and Roman honestly didn't know what he wanted. Many people thought he was crazy for being twenty eight and not fully committed to taking over the family business. Maybe he was crazy.

Wandering through the quiet halls of the large house, he flipped on lights as he went. It was lonely, cold, when the sun went down. A hot shower was exactly what he needed.

* * *

 _Have u thought about it? It's tomorrow night, I need to RSVP by noon._

Roman stared at the text message from Seth, freshly showered and sprawled out in a bed that could easily fit two more people in it. He was ready to pass out at any given second but he knew Seth wasn't going to give this a rest until he had an answer. In fact, Roman was sure if he waited ten more minutes without answering the text, he would start getting phone calls.

Maybe Seth was right, maybe he needed to get out more. Lately his stress levels had been raised significantly and after that conference call, after his dad basically told him that he was losing faith in him, maybe this random outing would do him some good. Clear his head a little.

 _If I do this will you stop trying to make me go on double dates with you for the rest of the summer?_

Tying his long, black hair back away from his face with a loosely placed band, he smirked to himself when he received an answer within seconds of sending his own text.

 _U got it. I'll pick u up at 8, be ready._

Stretching out to drop his phone onto the nightstand, Roman was out like a light only seconds after his head hit his pillow.

* * *

"Are you sure they're not taking us somewhere to murder us?" Roman asked Seth dryly, trying to peer out the heavily tinted windows of the car that had been sent to pick them up. "I mean it's weird enough they send cars to pick up ticket holders but we've been driving for a while now and we have no idea where we're going."

Seth seemed a little put off by it as well but he was doing a decent job at covering it up, waving a hand of dismissal at his friend as if that comment was too stupid to even respond to. They were both dressed in their finest, as the invitation had requested, and they had both come alone. There were a very strict set of rules listed on the invitation.

 _Rule One: A driver will arrive to pick ticket holders and bring them to the Molossian. Ticket Holders are not allowed to use their own source of transportation, or to know the exact location of the Molossian._

 _Rule Two: Only people holding tickets issued by the Molossian will be allowed onto the premises. No extra guests allowed._

 _Rule Three: This is a highly distinguished event that requires a strict dress code. Please wear your finest of you will be turned away at the door without refund._

 _Rule Four: No phones, cameras, recording devices or similar technology will be allowed into the event. No exceptions. If you are caught with such a device it will be removed from your person and you will be banned from the Molossian for life._

 _Rule Five: You will sign a contract upon entrance to the event. You will not break said contract or you will face legal action and be banned from the Molossian for life._

There was more fine print but Roman had already been unsettled enough by these rules. What kind of crazy shit were they about to get into? Seth's uncle seemed like a decent guy who wouldn't be into anything too extreme. But the fact that Roman wasn't able to find anything about this place on the internet still rubbed him the wrong way.

Before he could further voice any of these concerns to Seth, the car pulled onto a paved road that opened up into a huge clearing. Identical cars were parked in several long rows and up ahead were bright lights surrounding what looked to be an old warehouse. From what Roman could tell, it really didn't look like anything special.

"What the hell did you get us into?" he looked at Seth, who wore an equally perplexed expression now.

"Let's just see what it's all about and if it's weird we can bail, okay? I couldn't just let my uncle's tickets go to waste, they cost a small fortune." And yet Seth seemed less enthused.

The car came to a stop and the door was pulled open. The driver gestured for them to get out, bowing in respect as the two young men climbed to their feet outside of the vehicle and straightened their suit jackets.

"Enjoy your Molossian," the driver smiled politely at them and left them to pull the car around and park it among the others.

"Holy shit," Seth said under his breath as both men took in the sight of the huge building in front of them. It was only impressive in size. Paint was peeling from the walls, blocks of concrete and brick were eroding in places, overall it looked to be an abandoned old warehouse.

But every person who was filing into the building through two large wooden doors was dressed to the nines. There were older men and women, some looked to be royalty, some just very wealthy. There were younger couples excitedly whispering to each other, there were even a few families with children. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits and in a hurry to get inside the building. Roman looked down at the watch on his wrist. 9:30pm. They were supposed to be in their seats by 10.

"We better get in there," Roman nudged Seth and followed behind, ignoring every instinct telling him to back out of this now. Surely there was some kind of explanation?

Whatever doubts Roman and Seth had about the building were suddenly washed away the moment they entered. The inside was a polar opposite of what they had seen on the outside- it was lavish and elegant. The walls were covered in deep reds an golds, curtains made of silk were drawn back to reveal windows that overlooked the heart of the building. Now they could see that it was more like an arena. There were places to purchase extravagant treats and alcoholic beverages lining the walls but the center of the building was blocked from view, aside from the doorways and windows which led further into the arena. The build and decorations reminded Roman of the photos of some of the first hotels his family owned in New York. Very bold and beautiful and the feel of the place was almost ancient.

"Tickets, please," a woman's voice snapped both men out of their surprised stupor and Seth fumbled with the tickets, pulling them from his pockets to present them to the woman.

She scanned each ticket to assure their authenticity before pulling out two pieces of thick paper and ink pens.

"Please read and sign here," she motioned to the contracts, handing each man a pen, before gesturing to two large men in suits to search them for devices.

It felt like a whirlwind to Roman, trying to make sense of the printed words while the security men patted them down from behind. Wands were waved over their frames to assure they weren't hiding anything.

The contracts basically stated that no one would speak of the happenings inside of the Molossian. It almost made Roman laugh because it reminded him of the rules of Fight Club. That was a great movie but it was just that, a movie. And Roman felt like what they were about to experience might blow Fight Club out of the water.

"Just sign it, Ro," Seth whispered sharply, "they're all staring at us."

Against his better judgement, Roman scribbled his signature down on the dotted line and both contracts were taken from them immediately. The mood of the woman and the guards changed and they were all smiles now.

"Thank you for your cooperation! Please enjoy this month's Molossian!" she chimed and Roman and Seth were ushered along into the walkways of the building.

None of the other patrons around them seemed even the slightest put off. In fact, everyone still seemed as excited and happy to be there as the people outside. Gentlemen tipped their fancy hats at each other as they passed by, women stood together and gossiped, Roman could even overhear some old bags bragging about their riches to other old bags who were probably even more rich.

"What the hell is this place?" Roman asked Seth but didn't expect an answer. He didn't get one either.

Instead Seth just grabbed his arm and hauled him past another large booth where men and women swarmed, talking over each other in their hurry to place last minute bets. Pushing past the mob, they headed to one of the doors that led to the center of the building. And just as Roman thought, it was an arena. Rows of plush seats stacked on top of each other with balconies of seating on top of that. At the bottom was what he could only describe as an open cage. There was a large circle of dirt, the cage was built around it with tall steel beams. Chain link fencing connected each beam to complete the cage and while the top was open, it was heavily wrapped with razor wire.

So maybe it was some kind of makeshift boxing ring? It seemed out of place among the rest of the building. Even the seats around them were covered in soft navy blue cloth with ornate designs sewn into the cushions. The contrast between the coldness of the cage and the warmth of everything outside of it caught Roman off guard. But everything was catching him off guard tonight.

"Should have grabbed a bottle of booze from the bar," Seth muttered next to him and Roman stepped aside to let a family push past them to get to their seats.

"Of course Mox is going to win! He always wins!" a little boy, who looked no older than six, was insisting to his older brother. "He has to win."

"He better win or you know what happens," the older brother taunted in a sing-song tone and the younger boy shoved him in the side.

"Now boys, settle down of we'll leave before the finale," the mother tutted at her children and then they were out of earshot, leaving Roman as confused as ever.

"Let's just sit down and get this over with," Seth huffed, officially annoyed with this whole thing, which was sort of his default attitude when he didn't know what else to think. So it was time for Roman to be a level headed one.

"Just like you said, if it's too weird we can bail," Roman patted Seth on the shoulder and they made their way to their seats.

They were close to the cage, only a few rows back, and Roman tried not to notice too much more about this place. Every new detail he discovered only seemed to make him less comfortable. Maybe it was something like a play? It certainly looked like a theater with balconies and box offices, with the exception of the cage instead of a stage.

But why would they not be allowed to talk about a play?

More and more people poured into the arena and took their seats. Soon the place was packed and an older couple showed up to sit next to them. The older man decided to strike up a conversation with Seth about his uncle's absence.

"Yeah, he couldn't make it so he gave me tickets," Seth explained, "I brought my friend here."

"Is this your first Molossian?" the man asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"It is, we don't even know what's going to happen, my uncle wasn't allowed to tell us I guess..."

"Oh, you're going to love it," the tone of the man's voice felt like what a cat would use to a canary and both young men forced a smile.

Luckily, before that conversation could continue, the lights dimmed drastically. A hush felt over the crowd but Roman could feel the tension and excitement grow, the air was thick with it. Moments later a spotlight hit a balcony raised on the only section of the arena that didn't have seats beneath it. Instead there was a shadowed walkway that lead out into the pit, by the opening to the cage, which is where the performers must come from.

On the balcony were a small group of men and women, two of which were standing front and center. The crowd cheered at their appearance and both raised their hands in appreciation of the affection they were receiving.

"Thank you, thank you...ladies and gentlemen, welcome to your monthly Molossian!" the man bellowed into a microphone that was passed to him, "I'm Hunter, this is my wife Stephanie, and we would like to thank you for coming."

"And to show our thanks, we have put together a show you won't soon forget tonight!" Stephanie hyped the crowd to was seemed like deafening cheers and she laughed into the microphone softly, "You'll need to reserve your energy because we have a finale that will leave you breathless."

"That we do, Stephanie," Hunter grinned and the sight of it made Roman's skin crawl for some reason. Everything felt wrong. He spared a glance over at Seth, who seemed more interested now than previously. Roman decided to just take a deep breath, lean back, and try to enjoy the show.

"I know what you've all come to see," Hunter continued, "so I won't sit here and bore you with words. Without further ado, let the Molossian for the month of July, two thousand sixteen begin!"

The lights went low again, the crowd went wild, and the whole area surrounding the cage was bathed in bright lights. The walkway opened up and two men, dressed only in what seemed to be shorts held together by mere stitches, were led into the cage by several other men. They were on leashes, they were dirty, and they looked wild in the eyes. One was bigger than the other, had ink on his skin and his head was shaven. His body was in excellent shape and he walked like he had done this hundreds of times before. Roman could see the scars that littered his skin as he struck a pose near the side of the cage for the crowd, who seemed to eat it up.

The other near naked man was plenty muscled but was much smaller. He looked far less confident, like a nervous field mouse served up on a plate to a hungry tiger. Roman immediately felt sorry for the guy because whatever was about to happen, the odds were definitely in the bigger man's favor. A voice came through the speakers:

"Orton versus Neville begins in five, four," and the whole crowd joined in the countdown, "three, two, one!"

The place erupted into cheers and Roman was witness to one of the most disturbing things he had ever fathomed to witness. It took approximately two minutes and forty seven seconds for the bigger man to brutally end the life of the smaller man, within the confines of the steel cage- while every man, woman and child around them loved every second of it.


	2. House of Wolves

If someone would have told Roman that he would witness the demise of at least four different people- one was questionable but it didn't look good as they dragged the bloody man out of the cage- later that evening, he would have laughed in their face. He knew when they arrived that the place was fishy, that something was up and it probably wasn't good, but how could he have known it was this fucked up?

Something kept both Roman and Seth glued to their seats, however. Perhaps it was the sheer unbelievably of it all? Roman had nearly convinced himself at one point that this was just some very well put together act. That people weren't really being torn to pieces for the enjoyment of a rather vocal crowd. But it was all just a little too good, nothing was fake. It could be the fact that these men didn't fight like any men he had ever seen. These men fought like animals, back to their most primal and basic instincts. Maybe it was the widespread and eager acceptance of what the arena of people were witnessing together, as a whole. The fact that no one was judging each other for rooting one grown man on as he savagely ripped into another man. If anything, Roman couldn't remember the last time he had seen such a large group of people so unified. Not even sporting events seemed to hold the atmosphere that the Molossian held that night.

But Roman was sure on one thing- he wasn't enjoying this. There was an overwhelming feeling of not being able to look away, like passing a bad car accident, some kind of deep seeded morbid curiosity. More than once he thought he might get ill but he managed to hold it together. Neither him nor his friend had uttered a word since this began but after sparing a few glances at the man next to him, it seemed like Seth was on the same page. Barely holding it together, not wanting to risk outing themselves to the masses around them. Something about that felt decidedly dangerous.

As the winner of the last match was paraded around the pit, covered in blood and snarling at anyone who dared to get too close to the steep edge overlooking the action, the lights dimmed dramatically. The arena felt electric and Roman could barely breathe.

"And now for the moment you've all been waiting for," that same voice from earlier filled the air and Roman shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "our grand finale."

That seemed to get a different sort of reaction than previous announcements. Instead of cheering it felt as if everyone was shifting to the edge of their seats, leaning forward to get the best possible glimpse of what was about to happen. Seth rested a comforting hand on Roman's arm and for a moment he thought the younger man was going to suggest they bailed while they lights were low.

"Presenting Ireland's top prizefighting mutt, Sheamus!" Roman's brow furrowed at that. Ireland? How big of a thing was this Molossian? People were coming from all around the world to fight? To die? Were they doing this against their will? It certainly seemed that way, judging by the fight being put up by the large man being led into the ring with shackled hands. It took several equally large men to herd him toward the opening of the cage.

The man was huge from what Roman could tell, thick all over, with ghostly pale skin. It was a stark contrast to the vivid orange of the carefully manicured mohawk that stood on his head. Beads were braided into the man's beard, black bands of Celtic design had been inked into the smooth skin. Almost like Roman's own tattoo that showcased his Samoan heritage, only more widely spread. Sheamus he looked like ancient, rugged royalty.

Once he had been successfully herded into the cage, his shackles were unlocked through the safety of the chain link fence. Immediately Sheamus threw his head back and made a noise that could only be described as a roar. Muscles rippled beneath the decorated skin and he stalked around the inside perimeter of the cage, no doubt ready to tear into whatever poor soul they tossed in there with him. The display itself was plenty intimidating, even from the distance Roman sat from the man.

"And now, a mutt that needs no further introduction," the lights were brought low once more until Roman could barely see an inch in front of his face, "the feral Moxley!"

A red flash sparked in the pit, like someone had lit up a flare, but it was a single bright bulb flickering to life. It began to pulse, flashing on and off, illuminating the entire pit before plunging it back into darkness again. Over and over again, like a heartbeat. Roman could catch glimpses of Sheamus in the cage, pressed close to the chain link, trying to size up his opponent.

When a figure finally emerged from the shadows of the walkway, the crowd began a soft, rhythmic chant.

"Mox, Mox, Mox," they chanted in time with the pulse of red. Was this really happening? Was this some sort of cult? Roman looked at Seth, who was hitched forward in his seat, eyes narrowed as he tried to take in the sight of this man who had such a huge build up.

But what Roman could see was a set of six men, three on each side of a figure in the center. There was a hunch in those shoulders, an almost inhuman like gait to his stride. Suddenly the pulse of light grew more rapid and then all at once the entire pit was lit up once again.

What stood in the center of the carefully controlled formation of uniformed men was a heavily shackled, muzzled man. Roman could only really make out the mess of brownish hair, longer in the front because the strands shielded his eyes, and the muzzled shielded the rest. It reminded Roman of Hannibal Lecter's mask, only this one didn't look as surgical. This one was made of metal and it didn't look very comfortable. Nothing about this creature looked comfortable.

From the standpoint of physique alone, Moxley looked like no match for Sheamus. Moxley was smaller all over, down to his tiny waist that was bound in a belt of chains. Craning his neck to get a better look, as was basically every other body in the building, Roman couldn't figure out what was so special about this man.

The uniformed guards cautiously unlocked the shackles and one by one the thick chains fell from Moxley's body, shaken away from the lithe frame in a very canine like manner. Like a hound shaking water from it's coat. A thick, black leather collar was securely in place around the man's neck, the only thing adorning the body aside from the black shorts that hugged Moxley's small hips.

And the muzzle, of course. That was still in place even as they forced Moxley to move forward toward the entrance of the cage. Now that Roman had a better view of the man's body, he still couldn't see what set this Moxley apart from the other fighters, other than the fact that he seemed significantly smaller. Definitely no match for Sheamus. There were no intricate patterns painted onto Moxley's skin, there was no pageantry involved here.

Moxley's ribs showed through his pale skin- not as pale as Sheamus but pale nonetheless- and whatever muscle that clung to the lean figure was on display simply from the lack of bulk. The look of him reminded Roman of a half starved Doberman, all sharp and tight and agile.

After being forced through the gate into the cage, the heavy steel door slamming behind him, the guards reached through the chain link to unlock the muzzle at the back of Moxley's head. Just as the lock had turned over, Sheamus launched himself across the pit and slammed into Moxley's body.

The crowd erupted once more and Roman realized he had been drowning them out completely until that point, having been absolutely distracted by this muzzled creature.

"That's not fair!" Seth spoke up next to him for the first time in hours and Roman had to agree. Sheamus was pummeling away at Moxley, who was still muzzled and pinned to the edge of the cage.

"My my, someone is eager!" the announcers voice echoed through the arena, "Sheamus versus Moxley begins in...5, 4, 3, 2, 1!" The gunshot rang out over the combined voices of thousands of people and the fight was officially on.

Moxley's legs wedged themselves up between his body and Sheamus's, using the bigger man for leverage, and his feet pressed into the warrior's mid section. With one fluid thrust of his legs, Sheamus was toppling back into the dirt, giving Moxley a chance to move away from the gate and into the ring.

Hands brought up to the muzzle that was unlocked but still attached, Moxley quickly pawed it away and it fell heavily to the ground at his feet. This got a rise out of the crowd and Moxley's head raised slightly, eyes shifting from behind the strands of hair to scan the faces nearest to the cage and beyond. Roman didn't realize how hard he was staring until the set of wild blue eyes locked with his own and he felt his stomach drop between his feet as heavy as that muzzle had.

This wasn't a man at all. Nothing that radiated from the creature in the ring felt human, but Roman could see with his own two eyes that Moxley was just that- a human.

Moxley snarled, flashing his teeth, nose wrinkled up. He wasn't paying much mind to Sheamus, who was back to his feet now and charging. Instead Moxley had turned on the fence, gripping it and shaking it, snapping his teeth, putting on a threat display. It didn't seem to slow the Irish mutt down at all because he had Moxely bent in a very uncomfortable angle over his knee within moments, flipping the smaller mutt over and sending him rolling into the middle of the ring.

"C'mon Mox," Roman said under his breath, not having time to be surprised by it.

"Give it to him, mutt!" A booming, heavy Irish accent drew Roman's eyes from the ring briefly. There were a couple of very well dressed older men, one of which held a cane, gesturing toward the ring with it. "Break him in half!"

Were these men trainers? Did they bring Sheamus over for the fight? Cries of surprise broke through the crowd and Roman's attention snapped back to the ring. Sheamus had picked Moxley up and slammed him back down into the dirt on his back. The smaller of the two seemed to be a bit out of it, dizzy, clawing widly and blindly at the air. Sheamus was laughing, confident, deadly eyes looking up at the men Roman had been watching.

"Finish him off!" the man screamed back at Sheamus. Yeah, they were definitely in charge of the Irish fighter.

Sheamus threw his head back and roared, beating his mighty fists over his chest, and then he went down to grab at Moxley's throat for a killing blow. But Moxley was quick, calculating, legs raising to hook around Sheamus's neck tightly. They locked into place, the Irishman's head trapped between Moxley's thighs and he used his entire body to fling Sheamus over. The bigger man went head first into the ground but the momentum brought Moxley along for the ride. Sheamus tried to roll to his feet and Moxley was on him, arms squeezing around his throat from behind. He was snarling again, growling, eyes dark and predatory as Sheamus pried at the arms around his neck.

"Kill him you fool!" the heavily accented voice was yelling frantically from Roman's left but he couldn't look away from the cage.

Sheamus used all of his strength to ram Moxley into the cage, having to run backward to achieve it but the smaller creature's legs wrapped and locked into place around Sheamus's waist. It was so loud in the building now but Roman could still hear his own heartbeat in his ears, pounding away.

The end was growing near, Roman could feel it, the crowd could sense it. People were rising to their feet, holding their children up so they could get a better look at the action in the cage. The Samoan joined them.

Sheamus didn't seem to be fading much, growing more aggressive, ramming Moxley into the steel again and again. Then Moxley's arms shifted, moving from Sheamus's neck to his head and Roman was positive that the Irish man was about to get his neck snapped. It was the finish in many of the fights leading up to this one, something quick and brutal to but an end to the carnage.

Then Moxley sunk his teeth into the side of Sheamus's throat and as easily as ripping a piece of paper might be, he tore the man's carotid artery in half with one jerk of his head. The crowd fell silent as blood burst forward, bathing the pale skin crimson. Sheamus's eyes were wide, panicked, hands clasped at his throat but it was too late. Moxley had sealed his doom.

All at once the roar of the crowd brought Roman to his senses and he blinked dumbly at what he had just witnessed. Sheamus stumbled away from Moxley, who dropped to his feet and began to pace the length of the cage. Blood stained his teeth as he flashed them, a predator stalking his prey, waiting for it to bleed out and die so a feast may begin.

Only Moxley didn't wait for Sheamus to bleed out. While the dying man fell to his knees, still desperately grasping at his wound, Moxley attacked. Vicious and raw, until Sheamus lay twitching and finally going still. The victor stayed poised on his knees over the body, panting, adrenaline masking any pain that surged through him.

Slowly his head tilted up enough for him to look at the crowd again out of the top of his eyes, glaring, jaw dropped open, blood smeared over his once clean skin. Now Roman knew why they didn't bother decorating their prize fighter; he decorated himself.

"Holy shit," Seth breathed next to him and Roman couldn't utter a single word, unable to pry his gaze away from Moxley. Their eyes met again and instead of feeling disgusted, Roman felt something else. Because he was pretty sure there was a flash of emotion in Moxley's eyes that hadn't been there before.

Sorrow? Pain?

Roman didn't get a chance to study that expression because the gate swung open and men swarmed the cage. Immediately four of them tackled Moxley to the ground, one following up behind carrying a long rod. As Moxley began to struggle, growling and snapping his teeth at the men, the rod was jammed into his ribs and a shock was delivered. A strangled yelp left Moxley's mouth and Roman felt his blood run cold.

He could do nothing but stand there helplessly as Moxley was roughly manhandled from the cage, the muzzle forced back over his jaws, and another group of men came in to recover Sheamus's body. Off to the side Roman could here the Irish men cursing up a storm but he couldn't pay them any attention. His eyes were following Moxley's body as it was dragged through the dirt and into the walkway, out of his sight.

* * *

The event had ended and the halls were flooded with people chattering over each other about how great the show had been. Roman saw several little boys running around with fake blood on their mouths, snarling and clawing like Moxley had been, chasing each other. He felt numb on the surface but on the inside it was a turbulent mess of emotions. Seth stood next to him, silent and stiff, both of them ready to put an end to this night for good and to never look back.

But Roman couldn't stop thinking about the look in those wild blue eyes.

"Mr. Reigns, Mr. Rollins," a familiar voice broke through Roman's thoughts and he turned his head to find Hunter and Stephanie standing in front of him. They both wore wide smiles, endlessly proud of themselves for the event they had planned for their ticket holders.

"Yes?" Roman spoke, trying not to seem intimidated or uneasy, "Do we know you?"

That clearly hadn't been the response Hunter and Stephanie were expecting but Hunter laughed softly and reached out to put his hand on Roman's shoulder. At his side, Seth shifted nervously and Roman tried to relax beneath the weight of the man's hand.

"My wife and I make it a point to seek out newcomers and greet them personally," Hunter explained, still all smiles while his eyes searched Roman's own, as if he were trying to figure the younger man out.

"Yes and we like to ask how you enjoyed the show," Stephanie chimed in, perfect white teeth showing as she glanced between Seth and Roman, "how did you boys like it? It was an incredible event, one of the best this year so far, I think."

"It was great, ma'am, thank you so much for having us," Seth interjected quickly, painting a smile on his face that was no doubt fake but he could charm his way through awkward situations when needed, "my Uncle was right when he said it was something we would never forget. We're so glad we took him up on that offer and came out tonight."

"It was our pleasure," Hunter seemed to approve of Seth's answer but his gaze shifted back to Roman expectantly, "and you enjoyed it as well, Mr. Reigns?"

"Yes, of course," Roman spoke evenly, managed a smile, "that finale was something else."

"Oh, you liked Moxley?" Stephanie laughed and rested a hand on Hunter's chest, "Isn't he amazing? My husband raised him from just a little pup and trained him to be this killing machine."

"I'm sorry?" Roman blinked owlishly, not sure he heard that correctly, "Raised him?"

"We like to put our own mutts on display here," Hunter grinned and wrapped his arm casually around his wife's shoulders, "Mox came to us when he was five. Just a pup, like Steph said. His family sold him off to us for tickets to start a new life elsewhere. It's a sad story, really...but now look at him. He's adored."

But Hunter didn't look even slightly remorseful over this 'sad story' and Roman felt sick. Seth stepped up again to pull the attention back to him. It was mindless chatter, praising the couple over the building and basically kissing their ass the way Roman wouldn't be able to do. Not now.

Five years old? Sold into this world? Was this all Moxley had ever known? And to what extent?

"And that's why I wanted to invite you both back for the August Molossian," Hunter's voice cut through Roman's thoughts again, "It's our one hundredth year anniversary and we're putting together the biggest and most impressive Molossian to date. You're not going to want to miss it."

"Oh, that's so kind of you, but we couldn't impose on-"

"Nonsense," Hunter cut Seth off, "it's already a full house but we have seats available near our balcony that we reserve to give out to special guests. We want to invite you back and make sure you leave fully satisfied, we want to make lifetime members out of you both."

Seth stared at Hunter, at a loss for words, and Roman surprised then both by speaking up.

"We'd love to, thank you."

Hunter's expression changed immediately, warm and pleased, and he patted Roman heavily on the back.

"That's what I like to hear!" Hunter extended his hand to shake both Roman's and then Seth's, "I'll have the tickets delivered to you soon. We'll see you next month."

"Yes sir, thank you," Roman nodded his head and Hunter caught his eyes for a moment, held the gaze, and then smirked.

"You're not going to want to miss it." Roman knew there was more to Hunter's words than that but Seth was pulling at his arm, tugging him toward the exit.

"Goddamn, let's get the fuck outta here," he whispered loud enough for Roman to hear, "what a couple of creeps."

Roman was silent as they made their way outside, their car from before waiting with the driver opening the door to the backseat for them. They climbed in and Seth sighed heavily in relief. Roman stared out the window, watching as the warehouse faded away in the distance.

One week later Seth showed up at Roman's door, holding both tickets to the August Molossian in his hand. Neither of them had spoken a word about the event after that evening had passed by.

"Do you think we should burn them?" Seth asked, seemingly creeped out by the mere presence of the silky black envelopes with their names written skillfully on the front in bold golden ink. "We can't just throw them away, I think...we should probably just shred them and burn them and-"

"No," Roman took in the look of surprise on Seth's face.

"What do you mean no?"

"We're going to go back."


	3. Back For More

Roman couldn't concentrate on work for days. Conferences and meetings happened and he checked out of them as soon as he checked in, lost in his own head. He felt like he had grown an extra layer of skin, something he couldn't scrub off in the shower no matter how hard he tried.

Could people see it on him? Did they know what he had witnessed? He felt their gazes digging in, passing judgement as he walked down a crowded street with a hot cup of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other, pressed to his ear.

 _They know everything,_ a voice in his mind would whisper, but as soon as the blanket of dread settled over him another voice would appear, _how could they know anything? They weren't there._

Roman thought he might be losing it a little.

"Son? Are you there?" Mr. Reigns' voice this time, not one in his head, and he realized he had been silent while his father droned on.

"Yeah, sorry," Roman shook his head, cursing himself inwardly, "didn't get much sleep last night. I think I'm kinda out of it."

"You haven't listened to anything I've said, have you?" There was no hiding the disappointment in Sika's tone. Roman felt a stab of guilt in his gut.

"Can we talk later? I have something to take care of," Roman lied just to get off the line and his father sighed heavy on the other end. The line went dead without any parting words.

Roman tucked the phone into his pocket and sipped the coffee through the lid, stopping at a street corner to wait for traffic to pass through the intersection. The city was bustling around him, people of all backgrounds and walks of life poured through the streets, leaving Roman feeling somehow out of place. He remembered some island tale his father would tell him as a child, something about a sturdy rock in a raging stream. Calm among chaos.

Roman didn't feel sturdy and he didn't feel calm. His eyes momentarily caught the gaze of a passerby, an older gentleman in a nice three piece suit, briefcase in hand. The man smiled at him and he looked away immediately. How many of these well off business men knew of the Molossian? Were they ticket holders themselves? Did they coast through life, feeling entitled and privileged to be included in those events? To bare witness to the slaughter and murder of men treated like animals?

More than once he stopped himself from bringing the Molossian up to his father to see if it was something he had ever heard of himself. More than once he wanted to confess, to go to the police, to blast it on the internet. Then he remembered the contract and what all the fine print might have said. There was a very good reason he was unable to find anything about the Molossian on the internet. How deep did this go? Were they like the mob, did they kill people who tried to go to the cops? They were powerful, Roman knew that much, but what were they capable of?

"Ro, my man!" a familiar voice startled Roman and he jostled his coffee cup, nearly spilling it on himself, "Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to spook you."

Xavier Woods and Kofi Kingston, two of Roman's good buddies from college, stood before him. Xavier was still working on finishing up veterinarian school and Kofi ran a food truck in the trendy part of downtown. They both had kind faces and warm, bright smiles that immediately put Roman at ease.

"No, it's cool, sorry," he laughed and reached out to give them both a one armed hug, "got a lot on my mind and I didn't sleep much. It's making me feel a little on edge."

"You need a night out with your boys, that's what you need," Kofi patted Roman on the chest gently with a closed fist, "I was just telling Woods that we needed a boys' night out."

"There's a new club that opened last month and everyone I know goes there," Xavier explained, going on to invite Roman out with their friends on Saturday. But Saturday was a very important day.

"Can I take a rain check this weekend? Seth and I have a thing we have to do," Roman made a face for emphasis that it was something he didn't want to do, "maybe next weekend?"

Kofi scoffed but Xavier nudged him in the ribs with his elbow, grinning wide. "Don't worry about it, Ro. We'll catch you next Saturday then."

"Tell Seth we said hey," Kofi added and with that they disappeared into the crowd, leaving Roman with his thoughts once again.

Fuck. Saturday was just a few days away and he wasn't sure he could go through with this. Part of him was obsessing over the idea of being there. There was a need, a craving, but he didn't think it had anything to do with watching men viciously rip each other to shreds. The other part of him was sure that if they didn't show up, it wouldn't be the last they would hear from Hunter and Stephanie.

* * *

"We don't have to go through with this, you know," Seth said quietly, an attempt to calm jittery nerves. Roman looked at himself in the mirror, soothed his hand down the deep red tie he wore, adjusted his suit jacket.

"You know as well as I do that they're not going to be happy if we don't show," Roman was reasoning with Seth the same way he was reasoning with himself.

"Yeah," Seth gnawed on the inside of his lower lip and Roman nudged him out of the bathroom and down the hallway. The car would be waiting for them, it was already past eight.

The ride was silent in a different way than it had been the first time. This was heavy and exhausting, the kind that left you drained when it finally came to an end. The driver opened the door for them and both men climbed out, nodding their heads in thanks. The building was even more alive tonight, there were smiles everywhere Roman looked. Everything was bigger, brighter, more vibrant, more extravagant.

Making their way inside, Roman and Seth stayed close to each other so they weren't separated in the mobs of people. There were different booths and vendors sat up this time. There was a long line for a chance to get a photo with a collared, restrained fighter. Roman recognized him from last month but couldn't remember the name, only the expressions of pain and rage. Now the man looked heavily sedated so paying customers could get close enough to have a photo snapped.

There were posters on the wall advertising a special 'adults only' event with images of two male mutts- as they were referred to- and a female mutt. She was chained in the middle of a ring and the two males were bloody and battling hard. Roman could guess what probably happened next and why it was adult only.

Around the corner was a smaller, child sized replica of the cage set up in the pit. Inside was a younger boy, another mutt, on all fours. There was a collar around his neck and a chain securely latched to a post in the middle of the ring. The children of the ticket holders could practice their training chops, barking commands at the mutt, wildly gesturing.

Roman couldn't watch the spectacle a second longer. Luckily Seth was there to cart him away to the food and drink vendors.

"I'm gonna need alcohol this time," Seth pulled his wallet out, stepping into the line with Roman at his side.

There were more posters on the walls here but these were in celebration of the Centennial Molossian. Portraits of Hunter and Stephanie proudly standing tall with the pit and cage behind them. Fighters from around the world were displayed on the wall as well, some of them Roman recognized and some he had never seen. But there was one poster in particular that caught his eye. In the center, bigger than the rest, was a large banner with three figures displayed. On the left was a long haired man, stout and thick and powerful, with the title 'Bulgarian Brute' scrawled under him. On the right was a similar design, a very well built man with dark hair and even darker eyes, called 'The Pride of Mexico'.

Right in the center was Moxley, facing forward, head tilted down slightly, wearing that snarl. His eyes are what drew Roman in, piercing right through him. Brooding, calculating, dangerous. Roman skimmed the rest of the banner and found no other information other than it was a threeway battle. Again, just judging from the photo, size didn't seem to be in Moxley's favor. Not that it had mattered before.

"Here," Seth passed him over a cup, "just drink it. It'll help us unwind a bit."

Roman didn't question it, let the expensive and expertly aged whiskey burn his throat on the way down. It had definitely been more than a double shot but he didn't care. In fact, he would probably keep them coming as the night went on.

"Mr. Reigns? Mr. Rollins?"

Both men turned to find a tall, broad shouldered man in a sharp suit. His head had been clean shaven and he wore a faint shadow of a beard. His eyes were tired but kind.

"Yeah, that's us." Seth downed the rest of his drink and put the glass aside on a table. "Can we help you?"

"Yes! Mr. and Mrs. McMahon have asked me to fetch you," the man's voice held a thick European accent that Roman couldn't quite place, "they would like to extend a special tour for you. I hope you will accept."

Roman glanced at Seth, who simply shrugged.

"Right this way, please," the man gestured and led them off through the crowd to a heavily guarded door at the end of the building.

The next set of hallways were much like the others, only empty and there was a definite chill in the air. Their footsteps echoed off the stone walls and the man would occasionally smile politely at them, perhaps trying to make up for the otherwise awkward silence between them.

"Seth! Roman!" Hunter's voice cut through that silence like a hot knife through butter. Roman didn't like the sound of his first name on the man's tongue. "You made it! Come this way."

He pushed a door open that led into a much bigger room, ushering both young men and their guide through the door before it shut behind them with a thud. Built into the walls, up and down the length of the room, were large pens. They reminded Roman of the kennels at an animal shelter, only bigger and more heavy duty. Knots formed in his stomach when he thought what might be inside.

"Thank you, Antonio, you can go get the first round of mutts ready," Hunter dismissed their guide with a wave of the hand and the man looked at both Roman and Seth with a tight smile. He bowed his head, caught Roman's eyes for a lingering moment, and then he was gone.

"So you wanted to give us a tour?" Seth asked, the whiskey already loosening him up enough to talk openly with Hunter, no stepping on eggshells required. Seth always had been a bit of a lightweight and Roman smirked to himself.

"I wanted to give you a look at our facilities," Hunter extended his arm toward the rows of mutt housing, "I remember that Roman here took a liking to our little Mox. I wanted to give you a look at him before the big fight tonight."

"That's not necessary," Roman began but Hunter silenced him with a shake of his head and pressed a hand to Roman's back, leading him further into the room.

"You'll see a lot of mutts here from all around the world," Hunter's voice was filled to the brim with pride and excitement, "we have some friends in from Bulgaria with their mutt."

Hunter paused near a ground of men, all speaking in another language among themselves, in front of a kennel. Inside was the hulking man from the poster, the Bulgarian Brute. The mutt was staring them down as they passed by, charged the bars of the containment and made them rattle.

"Rusev, down!" one of the men shouted and Rusev snorted, backed off the cage and continued to circle the confines of his cage.

"He's mean as all hell," Hunter laughed and leaned in, lowering his voice, "but he's no match for Mox. There's no way Rusev or Del Rio will walk out of the pit tonight."

What continued to disarm Roman was how casual Hunter was. This was all so normal to him, treating human beings like disposable animals, pitting them against each other to fight for their own lives. Simply for the enjoyment of those who can pay enough to get a seat in the arena.

They passed by rows and rows of kennels, some empty and some filled, but as they neared the end he saw a set of larger kennels that were separate from the rest. Hunter came to a stop in front of them and Roman tried to glance past his shoulder to see inside.

"We train and accept mutts from all around the world but there are two that I've raised myself. Mox, as you know, and then this is Randy," Hunter unlatched a lock on the outside of the cage, allowing a little window to slide open. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out what looked like an actual dog treat and he held it through the window. "Randy, come."

From the back of the cage a figure came forward as commanded and Roman knew him right away. The man from the first fight. A very short lived match. The mutt was covered in tattoos, seemed like he had several more years on him than the rest of the mutts they had seen. Randy crouched down and took the treat from his owner's hand like it was an entirely normal occurrence.

"Good boy, Randy," Hunter praised the mutt, who was watching both Seth and Roman with a cautious gaze as he chewed his treat, "this is Randy Orton. My first mutt. He's won every fight we've ever thrown him in. He's the whole reason Moxley is as great as he is. He taught him everything he knows, didn't you, boy?"

Randy seemed to perk up at the mention of Moxley's name, his head turning in the direction of the kennel built right next to his own. There were several blankets and a mat pushed up against that side of the kennel, where it connected to the other, and from what Roman could tell there was a similar set up on the other side.

"That's his boy, he loves Mox," Hunter laughed and Roman was glad the booze was starting to kick in a little. Maybe this would feel less and less like the fucking Twilight Zone soon. "We've raised Mox with him, wanted him to learn from the best. They even sleep right there together, next to each other, it's sort of cute."

Seth laughed and while Hunter would have no idea it wasn't genuine, Roman knew that laugh. Sarcastic. Disbelief.

"That's pretty amazing," Seth stepped forward toward Moxley's kennel and Randy growled, causing the young man to step back quickly.

"It's okay Randy, they're okay," Hunter patted Randy on the head and closed up the window quick, latching and securing it. "They get protective of each other. It can be a problem if we're not careful. Randy mauled and nearly killed one of our guards once for hurting Mox. It was an accident but...well, Randy didn't care."

Hunter stepped over to Moxley's kennel and Roman noticed the shift in Randy's posture. Alert, stiff, zeroed in on every movement either of the young strangers made. If Moxley was in his kennel, Roman didn't really see him, at least not as first. It was deep, the back was shadowed and hidden from immediate view.

"Mox, are you ready for your big match?" the owner asked and Roman heard Moxley before he saw him. The rustling of chains, the sound of the metal dragging on the ground, and then he came into view. He was taller that Roman had initially thought, but even more slender up close. The muzzle was gone but the leather collar remained, a thick chain attached to it.

Roman wondered if this is what a rabbit would feel like in front of a lion's cage at the zoo. Like he was still being hunted despite the safety that the bars and steel provided. Like one wrong move would lead to his throat getting torn out, just like that poor Irishman's.

Moxley stared at him, unblinking, and Roman couldn't see the blue in them. Instead they just looked dark from where he stood. Seth shifted next to him and Roman knew he was going to say something stupid before his mouth even opened.

"What, no treat for Moxley?"

"Oh...he tends to be a bit moody during the Molossian," Hunter held his hand out to show off the jagged scar around the edge, in the meaty part of the palm beneath the thumb. "Moxley bit me three years ago while I was helping pull him away from a fight. I have no doubt that he would give me another to match this one."

When Roman turned back to the cage, Moxley was right up against the side of it, teeth bared and eyes locked on him. It startled him, visibly, and Hunter chuckled behind him. How the hell had Mox gotten there so silently and quickly? He had looked away for about as long as it had taken to see the scar. Now he could see the blue. Moxley breathed in hard, like he was smelling Roman's scent on the air between them, and then he exhaled heavy and fast. Shoving away from the bars, he began to pace back and forth but never once took his eyes off of Roman.

"Looks like Roman here is getting him all riled up," Hunter laughed and slapped a hand over Roman's shoulder, "maybe he doesn't like that cologne you're wearing. It does smell kind of cheap." Another laugh, another slap on the shoulder, and Hunter was pushing them away from the kennels and toward the exit. "We need to get you to your seats, the show is going to be starting soon."

Roman looked over his shoulder and Moxley was looking right back at him, a hand curled tightly around one of the bars.

* * *

Hours had passed and Roman couldn't remember why he thought this would be a good idea. Why, after putting himself through what happened last month, did he return? Why did he make Seth endure the same?

Blood was already staining the dirt in the pit, both inside and outside of the cage, as it had been a very violent evening. Even moreso than the last. But that was to be expected of an event so grand, right? As one of the guards retrieved a discarded collar from the ground, having been ripped off a broken neck, Roman was glad that Seth kept the alcohol coming.

He had lost track at how many whiskeys he'd tossed back and Seth was in the same boat, mostly inebriated, by the time the finale rolled around. Now things felt slightly numb, not nearly numb enough, but it was getting him through the hours.

Why had he come again?

"Introducing your Centennial Molossian grand finale," it sounded like Stephanie's voice this time and Roman cringed at the pitch of it and Seth steadied him by putting a hand on his shoulder,"for your viewing pleasure and entertainment, this match will be a threeway collar match. Each mutt will be tethered to the next by a long chain, and this fight will follow standard threeway rules."

None of this made sense to Roman and he tried to fish the names of the other opponents out of his mind. He had seen them on the banner, they seemed bigger, badder. Stronger.

"If one of the mutts is able to scale the wall, clear the barbed wire and escape to the other side, they will have the choice to leave the pit entirely and forfeit. If this is the case, the mutt will face proper punishment and humiliation, but will be spared it's life. Or the mutt may use the chains to interfere, and possibly strangle, it's opponents still trapped inside the cage. Of course this runs the risk of being dragged back into the cage as well..." and Stephanie continued to ramble on with rules but Roman couldn't listen anymore. They were just trying to make this finale as bloody and awful as possible and squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing his hands over his face quickly.

"It'll be over quick, probably," Seth tried to reason, tried to make him feel better, but he wasn't sure if it made anything better or everything worse. In the background Stephanie was announcing the opponents- Rusev and Del Rio- but Roman's head was louder.

Why were they there? He didn't enjoy this, he didn't want to watch people die. This was not okay, in any sense of the word, this was morally fucked. In so many ways, it was fucked. So why the hell was he sitting front row center?

"And now, the mutt you've all been waiting for," the crowd was roaring at this point, "the feral Moxley!"

Oh. That was why.

That's why he sat through torture and murder, that's why he kept quiet and didn't cause a fuss, that's why he forced his best friend to return to this terrible place with him.

Roman raised his head up, eyes focusing on the set of blurry figures marching into the ring until it all came into focus. There were the guards, in the same formation as before, three on each side. They were carrying torches tonight, there was some kind of music playing over the speakers to hype the crowd up with.

And there was Moxley, staring over the top of his muzzle at the cage while the flames from the torches cast flickering shadows over his pale skin. The muzzle was different this time, black, with the jaws and teeth of a canine painted onto the metal. From a distance it looked truly unnerving and up close Roman doubted it looked any less off putting.

As Moxley was led into the cage, another set of men came out dragging long chains, locking the ends to the collars of each mutt through the windows in the chain link. Once everything was set the gate and windows were securely locked and a hush fell over the crowd, in anticipation of the gunshot.

"Rusev versus Del Rio versus Moxley begins in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1..." and the shot rang out while the three mutts leap into action.

"One more, make it a double," Roman practically begged a scantily clad waitress that had been tending to the ticket holders in their section, "thanks..." The woman nodded and scurried off and Roman ignored the look Seth was giving him, eyes not averting from the cage for a second.

The fight was brutal from the start and Moxley stayed on top through most of it. While lacking the same mass or strength as the other two, he was more agile and quick. Roman had never seen someone move so fluidly before, bouncing off the sides of the cage to gain momentum before dealing out a strike or blow. There were snarls, growls, roars, all sorts of guttural noises coming from the men as they tried to claw and bite their way through the match.

Twenty minutes in and there was blood all over the men, Moxley somehow still maintaining the least amount of damage save for the deep scratch over his cheek bone that was leaking blood down his jaw. There were a few cuts and bruises but not like the other two mutts sported.

The waitress had returned with the drink fifteen minutes prior but Roman clutched the glass between his hands tightly, staring into the pit. Every now and again he could hear Hunter or Stephanie from behind him on the balcony above where he sat, crowing their approval and pleasure for what their prized mutt was doing to these men. These animals.

Exhausted and running only on pure adrenaline, fighting through the pain and fear, the mutts held nothing back. Moxley flipped Del Rio over into the center of the ring, face down with the chain tethering them to each other was wrapped tightly around the Mexican's neck. Moxley's foot was shoved between the shoulder blades of the mutt, keeping his chest pinned down while he pulled tight on the chain. Del Rio was scrambling, wildly clawing at his own neck in his attempt to breathe. In the corner of the ring, Rusev was recovering from a hard blow to the head. Disoriented, the brute of a mutt charged forward with a mighty roar. Moxley acted quickly, jumping back and jerking the chain upward to catch the Bulgarian at the knees, sending the mutt toppling over on top of Del Rio.

There was an opportunity now that had yet to present itself. Both mutts were down, in pain, leaving Moxley standing alone. He stared at the other two, eyed the length of chain left, and darted to the side of the cage. The crowd was suddenly on it's feet, cheering on their favorite mutt as he scaled to the top, near the razor wire.

Roman's heart was in his throat, he stood up shakily, downing the whiskey to drop the empty glass aside. Seth sprang up next to him so they could both see if Moxley was going to make it over the top of the cage. Rusev seemed to realize what was happening and was doing his best to stumble to his feet.

"C'mon...C'mon Mox," Roman was yelling now, palms sweaty as he clapped his encouragement, "c'mon!"

Moxley reached the top, looked up through the strands of dirty hair, and his gaze locked on Roman. It had to have been a coincidence that Roman was right in front of him, front row, staring at him with wide gray eyes. Urging, begging Moxley to make the leap over the edge. It felt like time stood still for a few long moments.

Unfortunately, those few moments gave Rusev time to grab the chain and wrap it around his hands, using every ounce of strength to yank Moxley by the throat. Roman could see the panic in the blue eyes as Moxley's grip slipped off the fence and then the mutt was toppling to the dirt.

The impact audibly drove the air from Moxley's lungs, the thud coupled with a sickening sound of a pop. Then a loud, pained, drawn out yelp left the mutt and the entire crowd fell eerily silent.

Roman was sure his heart had stopped beating. Beside him he could hear Seth's voice but even that seemed fuzzy to his ears.

"Oh no..." the younger of the two drove his fingers into his hair, dark eyes wide, "oh fuck..."

Roman spared a look at Hunter and Stephanie, who were both on their feet, wearing looks of pure disbelief.

Inside the ring Moxely was moving, scrambling to his unsteady feet. He stumbled backward into the edge of the cage, panting wildly, eyes darting between the two mutts. He was holding his left arm tight to his body, struggling to try to regain some kind of semblance of intimidation. He bared his teeth through the pain but the damage had been done. Blood in the water for the two sharks that had taken notice and were circling their newly targeted prey.

No.

The mutts descended on Moxley and the smaller mutt swung out with his uninjured arm, snarling and growling and doing his best to fend them off but a feeling of dread had fallen over the entire stadium and no one seemed to be cheering anymore. The snarls were turning into whimpers and cries and Moxley's desperate movements were growing weaker.

No. _No._

Roman hadn't realized he was screaming that word out. No. This couldn't happen. This was his fault.

"Roman!" Seth was yelling at him, grabbing at the back of his jacket but it was too late, he was already jumping into the pit.

Landing unevenly in the dirt, he nearly fell over but managed to stay on his feet as he sprinted the short distance to the cage. People were reacting, he could here the startled shouts and gasps of the onlookers as he pounded his fists into the sides of the cage.

"Roman! Roman, get out of there!" Seth was hanging over the edge to plead at him. Hunter's voice was booming from above to get the guards into the pit, to get Roman out of there. No.

The mutts were looking at him now, distracted from their prey as this strange man was climbing the side of the fence. As they watched, Del Rio suddenly took the chance to attack Rusev and the two went at it, Moxley no longer a threat to them. The mutt left standing could finish him off easy at the end.

Roman made it to the top of the cage and squirmed his arms out of his jacket, throwing over the razor wire to give him a cover to crawl over without getting cut up. Guards had swarmed the pit, all ordering him to get down immediately.

With whiskey pouring through his veins, Roman climbed halfway down the fence until he dropped to his feet the rest of the way. Patrons in their seats were screaming, some were on their feet, others were looking away in horror at what might happen to this man.

"Roman, stop this instant!" Stephanie's voice came through the loud speaker but Roman was kneeling at Moxley's side, trying to pull the mutt toward the gate of the cage where guards were attempting to unlock it as quickly as they could.

Rusev turned suddenly, launching himself at Roman. Both men bounced off the fence with the Bulgarian attacking, pinning Roman into the chain link. Women were screaming, children were crying, and in the back of his mind Roman had to wonder how this was any different than watching the mutts die.

Roman's eyes were shut, arms held up to block the blows to his head. Guards were shoving their shock rods through the fence to taze the mutt but Rusev was barely slowing down. The gate was pulled open and Roman began to reach for the opening when a gurgling noise filled the immediate space around him. Blood bloomed, shooting free from the Bulgarian's neck and narrowly missing Roman's face.

Moxley was wrapped around Rusev from behind, blood on his mouth, his good arm forcing the mutt's head back to open the wound further. By the time Rusev hit the ground, Moxely had dropped to his knees, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. Like a wild animal who knew it's time was up. Roman stared, slack jawed, and Moxley stared right back.

The next minute was pure chaos. Guards had rushed the cage, filling it up with bodies. Moxley was forced to the ground but there was no fight left in him. Del Rio was snapping and attempting to shake the guards free but he was shocked repeatedly until he gave in, dragged away from the pit and into the walkway. Rusev's body laid still, unmoving, in the dirt with a halo of his own blood spreading from his head; completely overlooked.

"What in the fuck were you thinking?" Hunter grabbed the front of Roman's shirt and hauled him in close, "Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

"I..." Roman's tongue felt thick in his mouth, his brain was muddled, he didn't know what to say to himself. "I had to..."

"You had to?" Hunter laughed and it was void entirely of humor. "Do you have any idea what you just did? You've ruined everything. You could have been killed, how would we explain that, huh? You would have outed us all."

Roman looked past Hunter's shoulder to see Seth standing against the barrier of the pit, looking absolutely terrified. He couldn't blame him.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," Hunter yanked Roman's shirt again and the younger man did as he was told, "take your friend and get the hell out of here. You're banished. For life. If you even think about telling anyone about any of this, I will ruin your good name. I'll ruin your family's name."

Roman knew that it wasn't an empty threat and he flinched but didn't meet Hunter's gaze. The older man let a few second pass so the words could really sink in before he shoved Roman away from him.

"Get out and don't let me ever see you or your friend back here again," he seethed, turning as Stephanie approached him quickly with a microphone, passing it into his hand. "Ladies and gentlemen, please remain in your seats. We are so sorry for this inconvenience, we have a few announcements to make that will set things right."

Roman didn't care how every set of eyes in the arena had fallen on him as he made his way to Seth, who looked as pale and sick as Roman had ever seen him. People seemed to be settling back down now, returning to their seats to hear out what Hunter had to say.

"I'm sorry," Roman mumbled at Seth, who shook his head and grabbed Roman's arm.

"Let's get outta here." Security showed up to escort them out but as they were being led from the arena he could hear the fading voice of Hunter as the announcements were made.

"Due to the interference in the finale, we will resume the fight between Moxley and Del Rio tomorrow night. Please return to the Molossian with your tickets and we will honor them for the event. If by some miracle Moxley defeats Del Rio, we will put him down live, publicly, for all of you to witness."

Roman's blood ran cold and every muscle in his body tightened up, slowing his steps.

"Roman, no," Seth was quick to pull him along, "stop. We gotta go."

"They're gonna fucking kill him, Seth," Roman protested and the security guard at his right laughed dryly.

"Owners put down their mutts that are too damaged to go in the pit," the guard explained and a sick, twisted smile stretched over his mouth, "even if they win, they get put down. What's the use of a broken up mutt?"

Roman was a split second away from punching the man's teeth down his throat when he was shoved through a set of doors, Seth managing to keep him on his feet as the doors slammed shut and locked behind them.


	4. Silent Running

"Roman...someone's on the phone for you," Seth's sleepy, confused voice roused Roman from his slumber. His head hurt, he felt like he had been hit by a bus and dragged a few miles.

"On your phone?" he asked, brow furrowing as Seth held his own phone out to Roman with a shrug.

The night before had turned into one disturbing blur in Roman's head. He could barely recall parts of it but he did remember the sound of Moxley's arm snapping, the haunting cry that the impact had forced from the mutt's lungs. Roman hadn't been thinking straight when he intervened. He had only made matters worse, hadn't he? Seth ended up crashing at his place, both too spooked after the night's events to part ways. They were in this together. Seth was the only other soul who could understand.

"Hello?" Roman spoke into the phone, fighting off the unease that settled deep into his gut and refused to leave.

"Mr. Reigns?" Roman knew this voice and he squeezed his eyes shut trying to place it. Heavy accent. European. Kind eyes.

"Yeah...yeah, that's me," Roman mumbled, "who is this?"

"My name is Antonio Cesaro, we met briefly yesterday evening when I fetched you for my boss," the voice explained and it clicked into place. Bald guy, dressed nicely. Antonio had been very kind to them despite the incredibly unusual circumstances.

"Oh yeah, I remember...are you calling to ban me again because Hunter made that clear last night and-"

"No, no, I'm calling because," and there was a long pause, a rustling that made Roman think Antonio was shielding the phone away, "I need your help. And I think I can help you too."

That put a bad taste into Roman's mouth immediately.

"What the hell would I need help from you with?" Roman barked into the line, raising his voice and Seth rubbed the bridge of his nose from across the room. Why couldn't this nightmare just be over with?

"I mean I...I don't want to do this anymore, Mr. Reigns," Antonio's tone grew more desperate, "this isn't right. This whole Molossian is drastically immoral, to put it lightly. I want out."

"And what's that got to do with me?"

"I want to help you free Moxley."

Roman's grip on the phone tightened and he breathed heavy across the line, sucking a sharp gulp of air in. Before he could say anything, Antonio continued.

"We don't have much time to plan, I've been wanting to do this for a long while but now I have a chance. If I help you free him, will you help me escape? I cannot leave the premise of the Molossian without permission or escort. I can't have one of Hunter's drivers knowing anything about this." Antonio was pleading now. "I need someone from the outside, someone to house me for a couple of days and then to take me to the airport. I'll fly back home to Switzerland, I already have a flight booked."

"Antonio, I want to help, I just-"

"Mox only has 9 hours left," Antonio was making a bad habit of cutting Roman off, but every time Moxley's name was brought up his heart throbbed so hard in his chest it made his skin tingle. "He doesn't deserve this, Mr. Reigns. None of them do. But Moxley is not a bad mutt-...man. He's not a bad person. I know you tried to rescue him last night, that was very brave of you. I can help you rescue him for good."

Roman looked across the room at Seth, who was gnawing on an already stubby fingernail, very much interested in what was happening in this conversation. Fuck. This could be the worst decision Roman had ever made. But lately every decision had been a bad decision. What if this was the first good decision?

"Mr. Reigns?"

"Uh...yeah, Antonio," Roman spoke up, making his decision, "we'll help. Tell me what we need to do."

* * *

"You want me to what?" Sami Zayn, one of Seth's childhood friends, stared at the two men dumbly.

"C'mon, Sami," Seth was laying it on thick now, sad doe eyes in full effect, "we just need to borrow it for the night."

"I can't just loan you my delivery vehicle from work, Seth!" Sami was one of those good guys that very rarely did a damn thing wrong. Always so polite, always so helpful and sweet, the type to go out of his way to help an old lady cross the street. Because he had been such close friends with Seth, he became a friend of Roman's as well, though it was Seth's idea to drop by the flower shop where Sami worked to ask for a favor.

"We can't use any of our cars, we don't have enough space and we don't have any time left. _Please_ , Sami. I'll owe you the biggest favor ever."

Sami nudged his newsboy cap back on his head, revealing reddish hair that matched the well groomed beard. He scratched at the top of his head as if he were weighing the options but Seth and Roman were staring at him so hopefully.

"What's this for again?" he asked after releasing a heavy sigh, Roman knew he was close to cracking,"You're picking someone up?"

"Yeah, some friends," Seth lied smoothly and waved a hand in the air, "we'll explain that later, but it's really time sensitive."

"Alright...fine, yeah, I'll help, but you're gonna owe me big," Sami poked a finger into Seth's chest and Roman clapped a hand over Sami's shoulder.

"Thanks Sami," Roman was sincere, genuine, "you're a good guy. I'll make sure you're repaid for this."

"Yeah, yeah," Sami smiled and held up the keys, "but I'm driving. I don't trust either of you with the truck." Seth and Roman exchanged looks but neither of them tried to deny Sami the option of coming along. There would be a lot of explaining to do, but they were running out of time.

"Be at my place at seven pm, sharp," Roman reached out to give Sami a firm handshake, "thanks again, man. You're a lifesaver."

If only Sami knew how much truth that statement actually held.

* * *

Roman Reigns knew his life would be different. He knew he would experience things that the average person would never experience, simply because of who he was. But one thing Roman did not expect was to be shoved in the back of a flower delivery truck as it putted along down the winding roads, out of the city and into the middle of nowhere.

"Are you sure you know where we're going?" Sami asked from the driver's seat and Seth stared down at his phone as the navigational system blinked on the screen.

"Yeah, we're on the right road, it's a ways up here...just keep going."

Antonio had explained where to meet them, what to tell the guards if they were stopped, and he had sent the coordinates to the Molossian. There wasn't even an address, just fucking coordinates.

Roman's nerves were completely frayed from top to bottom as he sat on a stool that wasn't even connected to the floor of the truck. Occasionally he would slide a bit and Sami would shoot him an amused look through the rear view mirror. The truck had space, despite the overwhelming scent of various flower arrangements that wafted through the air, but not a lot of seating. It would do the trick. Hanging from one of the hooks near the back of the truck was a large, impressive arrangement of bright and beautiful flowers. Exotic types, probably some somewhere tropical. They looked expensive and that's what mattered.

"Remember what we told you," Seth reminded Sami, his words clipped and tight. Roman knew he was as nervous as he was but he would owe Seth for the rest of his life for agreeing to come along without any hesitation. He couldn't do this alone.

"Just stay cool and play along, I got it," Sami assured Seth but the younger of the three glanced back at Roman with an unsure gaze.

"It'll be fine, Sami doesn't even need to leave the truck, he's got this."

About forty tense minutes passed and the thick trees gave way to the clearing containing the Molossian. Roman leaned forward to gaze out the windshield, blood running cold at the sight of the building. Sami whistled in an impressed manner.

"You said this place was big but this is...something else," he laughed and a touch of nerves shined through, "what's even going on here?"

"Something that shouldn't be," Roman said quickly in a tone that clearly stated that was all Sami needed to know. At least for now. Sami read the message loud and clear.

Bypassing the usual entrance that the sleek black vehicles carrying ticket holders and guests used, they were instructed to seek out a different entry to the premises by Antonio. This would be far less suspicious as only those who knew the location of the Molossian, and this additional entrance, would be using it. They found it easily; just another half mile down the road, and Seth slipped into the back of the truck with Roman, safely out of view. They passed the floral arrangement up to the passengers seat and Sami turned the delivery vehicle up to the gate. Immediately a well dressed man approached the window from his stationed location.

"State your purpose for entering," the man demanded in an almost robotic sounding voice.

"I have a special delivery for tonight's event," Sami didn't miss a beat, using his warm smile and easy going tone, picking up an order form from the dashboard to skim it, "A mister...Antonio Cesaro placed an order to be delivered tonight."

The guard peered in at the order form and then glanced past Sami into the truck, eyeing the display of flowers. He wrinkled his nose, no doubt at the potent scent radiating from the brightly colored arrangement in the passengers seat, and then stepped back.

"Alright, you're clear," he waved the truck along and Sami tipped his newsboy cap at him before rolling up his window to pull through the gate and onto the property.

"That was easy," Seth mused with a bit of relief flooding his voice but it would be short lived as they approached the building. There were people still arriving around front but this entrance had brought them to the back, away from the prying eyes of guests. Antonio must have planned it for this time because most security on hand would be busy with the event. If no one but the workers of the Molossian even knew where the building was located, why would they expect a surprise visit? They had been so careful to prevent their guests from learning the exact location and Antonio had said there had never been an incident before, not like the one they were about to pull off.

Fingers crossed.

The truck came to a stop near the back of the building and Roman could see that Antonio was waiting near a set of large steel doors, just like he had said he would be. He hurried forward to the truck to greet them but the sense of urgency was very strong.

"Come, this way, we must hurry," the European ushered Roman and Seth out of the truck while Sami shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat.

"We'll be right back," Roman tried to put Sami at ease but they didn't have time to sit around and rub each other on the back. They had to get Moxley out and their window of time was growing shorter.

Antonio led them into the building and down a long hallway. The sound of the crowd filling the stadium could be hear faintly through the walls. Every so often music would strike up or a voice on the loud speaker would hype the crowd, earning a cheer that vibrated the walls. Roman could only imagine the feel in the arena right now. Were they beside themselves with excitement? Were they ecstatic that their Centennial event got stretched into a second night? Did any of them feel an ounce of sorrow over the looming execution of their favorite mutt? Did any of them even care?

"This way," Antonio pushed a door open and the room filled with kennels stretched out before them. "If anyone comes in I'll distract them but you two get Mox out of his kennel and out the back."

Digging in a pocket, Antonio pulled out a key and pressed it into Roman's palm. He gestured to be silent and led the way toward the back of the room where Moxley and Randy were. The last thing they wanted to do was rile up some of the mutts that were resting in their cages.

Approaching the large kennels that housed the two prized pets of the McMahon's, Roman could see that Randy wasn't in his at all. Instead he was hovering around the inside of Moxley's pen, standing guard over the mutt he still considered to be his pup. The injured mutt. The mutt at the end of his rope. As they got closer Randy stood at full height and puffed out his chest, showing his teeth, a display saying to stay back.

"Randy, it's alright, they're friends," Antonio tried to soothe the older mutt and almost immediately Randy relaxed and the threatening stance dissolved. It was obvious that Antonio had treated the mutts kindly, there was a trust that had been built up over the years. "We're here to help Moxley."

Randy perked up at that, a soft whine reverberating from the back of his throat as he turned his head to look toward the back of the kennel. Roman could see a mess of blankets and cushions, some kind of nest that Randy had made to surround Moxley.

"I know, he's not in good shape," Antonio's voice held plenty of genuine sympathy and without any hesitation he reached out the lock on the cage. Randy tensed and his head whipped toward the left but he wasn't alert because of Antonio. There was something else.

"I know, Hunter, but come on...I've done everything you asked for years, I think I deserve this!" a voice, the sound of a door swinging open and shut, and footsteps.

Antonio gestured wildly to the side, his way of telling Roman and Seth to hide in the dark space between an empty kennel and the wall. They wedged themselves in, barely making it out of sight before Hunter and another man came into view.

"I know Kevin but I have to give the people what they want," by the sound of Hunter's tone it was obvious that he was fed up with whatever conversation he was engaged in with this other man, "I can't just _give_ you Mox so you can divulge in your sick fantasies. I know you've been patient and you would have gotten your chance with him but no one saw this coming, alright? I have no choice here."

Roman's hands were in fists at his sides and it took every ounce of willpower in his being to keep him from lunging out of the shadows to attack Hunter. He studied this other man though- tall and kind of heavy set, short cropped hair that was spiked out, and a beard covered face. He didn't look happy- more like a spoiled child being told no for the first time.

"Hunter, you _promised_ me that when I got this promotion I could have him and-"

"Kevin, the answer in no!" Hunter raised his voice and Roman could hear Randy growling in displeasure at both men's proximity to the kennel. "Jesus, man, you're going to just have to get over it. Pick another mutt to fuck around with, I don't care. But you've got to give this Mox thing a rest, okay? He's practically already dead, his match is in a hour. Let it go."

With that Hunter pushed past Kevin, barely acknowledging Antonio's presence with a quick nod, and then he was gone. A door opened and shut, leaving Kevin and Antonio standing in front of Moxley's kennel.

"I can't fucking believe this," Kevin continued to pitch a fit and Antonio cleared his throat softly. That grabbed Roman's attention.

"Actually, I'm glad you're here," Antonio piped up and Kevin was already rolling his eyes, "you can help me move those boxes in the office before Hunter has an aneurysm."

"Can't we just wait until tomorrow?"

"Let's just get it over with, you've already put him in a bad mood," Antonio insisted, pushing Kevin along in the opposite direction toward the door. Now was their chance.

As soon as the sound of the door opening and shutting echoed through the room, Roman and Seth slipped out from their hiding spot. Grabbing for the lock, the key was shoved into place and Roman looked up to meet Randy's eyes. The mutt was standing right in front of him, staring him down, sizing him up.

"We're here to help," Roman spoke quietly, "I promise. We just want to help him."

Randy seemed to be searching Roman's eyes for a moment and then hesitantly he stepped aside and allowed the door to be pushed open. Roman and Seth both darted inside and went to the corner where Moxley was hidden among the blankets.

"Moxley...hey, I'm here to help you, I...I tried to help last night and..." Roman trailed off as Moxley lifted his head to look at him. His heart sank. A black eye, a busted up cheek, claw marks across his neck. That was just what Roman could see. The pain in those blue eyes said it all though. Moxley was defeated, he was finished, he didn't have any fight left in him. He knew his fate.

Randy showed up at Roman's side and a quiet whimper left him. Moxley's gaze shifted to Randy and the older mutt leaned down to gently scoop the younger mutt into his arms. A whine let the broken body and Randy nuzzled his nose and lips into the messy mop of hair, holding Moxley close for a moment, before turning and placing him into Roman's waiting arms.

"Go," Randy said in a rough voice, one that was very rarely used, and Roman didn't have time to be shocked that the mutt could speak at all. He nodded and carried Moxley toward the entrance where Seth was waiting.

Suddenly a door swung open hard and Kevin's voice filled the room.

"Chill the fuck out man, I just forgot my-"

"Run!" Antonio yelled a warning over Kevin's words and Roman did just that. He and Seth made a beeline for the door they had entered through. After that there was only the long hallway that stood between them and Sami waiting patiently in their getaway truck.

"What the fuck- HEY!" Kevin screamed at them, "Stop right there!"

They could hear footsteps behind them now as Seth shoved the door open and held it for Roman to pass.

"Oh shit! Go!" Seth shoved Roman along after seeing how quickly Kevin was gaining on them.

"Drop him! Mox is mine!" Kevin was screaming and the sound of a scuffle broke out behind them as Antonio rammed Kevin up against the wall. In hand was one of the electrocution rods and he jabbed it into Kevin's side, pulling the switch.

Kevin was screaming again, this time in pain, arching against the wall as the shock waves rendered him momentarily helpless. Antonio pulled the switch again, sending Kevin crumbling into the ground.

"I'll fucking kill you, Cesaro!" he was yelling but Antonio was already halfway down the hall, following Seth and Roman. "I'll fucking kill you!"

The door was within their sight, only several more yards and they'd be outside.

Suddenly a door near the exit flung open and Hunter charged out, throwing Seth off of his feet and onto the ground. Hunter stared in raging confusion at the man on the ground until his sights turned on Roman and everything became crystal clear.

" _You_ ," he seethed, shoving his jacket aside to reach for his hip.

"He has a gun!" Antonio warned Roman, yanking Seth to his feet to shove him out the door toward the waiting truck.

Roman's eyes were wide as he stared down the barrel of the gun Hunter had drawn and aimed. To defend himself, he would have to drop Moxley, who had turned into Roman's body with a low pitched whimper. He could feel the mutt's face hidden against his chest, anticipating the bullets that were sure to come.

Footsteps echoed and before Roman knew what was happening, he was nearly knocked off his feet entirely, forced to stumble aside. Randy all but ran Hunter down, bulldozing into the man. They hit the wall next to the door hard and Roman gaped in shock before springing into action. Randy was giving them one last chance to escape.

Antonio was hauling the door open and Roman ducked out with Moxley in his arms, but as soon as Randy had made an appearance the younger mutt had stirred and was looking over Roman's shoulder at the older. They could only see flashes of what was happening in the hallway as the heavy doors swung open and shut.

Seth was at the open back door of the truck, frantically waving them on and Antonio was at Roman's side, when the shot rang out. Followed by a loud yelp and as the doors swung shut, the sight of Randy's lifeless body hitting the ground flashed briefly and was gone.

Moxley went wild in Roman's arms, squirming and bucking, crying out. Antonio had to help get him into the truck, the mutt doing everything in his weakened state to get past them and back to Randy's side. The sounds Moxley made as they yanked the doors shut and the tired peeled out on the pavement, Roman was sure he would never forget as long as he lived.

Sami was doing an alright job of not panicking and Roman couldn't blame the poor guy, considering what was happening. Seth just kept yelling to drive faster and Sami did. Out the back window Roman could see the figure of Hunter in the doorway of the fading Molossian.

He had a very distinct, sinking feeling that while they might have won this battle, they had not yet won the war.

* * *

The ride back into the city had been dreadful, to say the least. While there was plenty to celebrate in the fact that Moxley was still alive and Antonio was out of the Molossian safely, their plan hadn't exactly gone off without a hitch.

They would be looking for them. Roman knew it, Antonio knew it, but neither of them brought it up. Enough had transpired that evening, tomorrow would be a better time to regroup and discuss what to do. Sami was quiet, too quiet for someone who had been unknowingly dragged into such a mess. Seth was typing away on his phone, reaching out to friends who might be able to help them now.

Roman's home was safe, at least for now. It wasn't publicly listed as a Reigns estate, it was one of the private properties and Roman always laid low when it came to bringing people to that place. No one would know they were there, not for some time. It would give them a chance to figure out how to handle the rest of this situation.

Hunter had seen everything. Kevin has seen everything. Randy had...

Roman couldn't bring himself to look at Moxley now, who was huddled in the back corner of the truck, whimpering and sobbing. If anyone tried to go near him he lashed out weakly with his good arm, but over the span of the car ride Antonio was able to approach and comfort him.

They could only begin to guess what Randy had meant to Moxley and Roman wasn't sure they would ever truly know. They were able to save one life, but at the sacrifice of another.

So much death, so much tragedy. Roman's heart was filled to the brim with it and he wanted to huddle in a corner and cry too. But there was no time for that now.

Sami stored the truck inside the garage at Roman's home, hidden away where no one would see it, and he accepted the offer of a room for the night. He didn't ask questions although both Roman and Seth knew they would come eventually. They owed Sami everything.

Antonio had carried a sleeping Moxley into the home and laid him out on the sofa in the living area. With about twenty minutes left in the ride, the mutt's body had given out and he fell into an uneasy slumber. It was strange now for Roman to see Moxley like that. Broken, beaten down, almost fragile. Compared to what he had seen of the mutt prior, it was a bit unsettling.

"He needs to see a doctor," Antonio spoke to Roman, voice as exhausted as he looked, "soon. I don't know how badly injured he is. Randy wouldn't allow anyone near him as soon as he was brought into the kennel." The mention of Randy brought a distant, sad look to the European's eyes and Roman reached out to put a comforting hand on Antonio's shoulder.

"You did good, you got him out safe and we'll make sure he gets treatment," Roman assured the man and Antonio smiled, nodded, "now go get some rest. Tomorrow will be busy and you have a trip back home to plan."

As soon as Antonio was gone, heading off to one of the many guest rooms to get some well deserved rest, Roman picked up his phone and pulled up his contacts list.

"Who are you calling?" Seth's wearied question filled the stark silence that had fallen over the room.

"Xavier."

* * *

"I'll bring the meds for him in the morning," Xavier glanced back at Moxley, who was still out cold on the couch, "and we'll check up on his arm again. I think he should be fine. It doesn't seem like there's any major internal damage but if you want to be sure we can sneak him into the clinic tomorrow after our last appointment."

Xavier wasn't a doctor but he was the closest thing that Roman had to one. And it helped that he trusted Xavier with his life. One phone call was all it had taken and his friend showed up with a box full of supplies to set Moxely's broken arm in a temporary cast. Xavier had done the best he could do without having Moxley brought into the clinic but when they were able to, they could run some scans and x-rays.

"Thanks man, you have no idea how much we appreciate this." Roman was beyond tired, completely dead on his feet, but he reached out and pulled Xavier into a one armed hug.

"Anytime," the shorter man replied but the smile began to fade as he looked up at Roman, "what the hell is this all about, man? You said you saved him from people that were fighting humans like dogs? What is this?"

Roman shook his head, forcing a weak smile at his friend.

"I'll explain everything tomorrow, I promise," he helped Xavier carry his things to the door so he could see him out, "thank you again for coming on such short notice. I know this is fucking weird. I'll make sense tomorrow."

Xavier's smile was back and he loaded his supplies into his car, waving at Roman.

"Get some sleep, big dog. Call me tomorrow-er...later, I mean!"

Roman waved his goodbye and shut the door, locking up tight behind him. He practically fell into the arm chair next to the couch, his head lolling back against the plush cushion. Strands of hair had escaped from the bun he had pulled it all into earlier, framing his face. He was a mess and he knew it, felt like it.

Everything was so quiet now for the first time all day, save for the quiet sounds of Moxley's breathing. Seth had passed out in a chair and Roman had to practically force him to go to bed in his usual room. Now it was just him and Mox.

He turned his head to study the prone figure on the couch, barely able to keep his eyes open. Moxley was safe. Roman was able to rescue him from a certain doom after all.

Gray eyes falling shut against his will, Roman brought his hands up to brush his hair back, to hide his face behind his palms.

 _Now what in the hell was he going to do?_


	5. The Fighter

"Roman...Roman," it was Seth's voice but Roman wasn't sure if it was part of a dream or part of reality until his eyes began to blink open and adjust to the early morning light pouring in through the windows of his living room. The house was full of windows, giving those inside an amazing view of the scenery outside.

"Mmph," Roman made a sound of displeasure at being woken up, his body protesting as he twisted in the chair he had passed out in only hours before. "What?"

"Where's Mox?"

Roman's eyes bleary eyes shot open at that and he sat up, head turning toward the couch. There was no one lying there but a couple of the cushions were missing. Brow furrowed, Roman climbed to his feet and rubbed the sleep away from his eyes.

"You haven't seen him?" he asked and Seth, also looking disheveled and exhausted, shook his head. "Fuck."

"He's gotta be here somewhere," Seth was quick to reassure Roman but they parted ways immediately to search for Moxley. There didn't seem to be much of a sign of the mutt anywhere, not even in the kitchen.

While Seth went down the hall to search the guest rooms, Roman headed for the staircase. There was a smaller level of the house beneath the main one, with less windows and less rooms. It was sort of like a loft, meant for guests or entertaining but Roman never had many people over so instead he had more of less turned it into a partial storage unit.

"Moxley?" he kept his voice gentle as he reached the bottom of the stairs, only faint amounts of sunlight were leaking in through the small windows on either end of the floor. There were different columns of boxes piled up around the big, open space, so Roman was careful to check around each stack.

When he reached the end he noticed the end of a blanket peeking out from around the bottom edge of a large box. He circled around and found Moxley curled up on the hardwood floor in what seemed like a nest of blankets and cushions. The cushions he recognized as the ones from the couch upstairs but the blankets and pillows must have been taken from somewhere else in the house- not that it was important right now. What was important was that he had found Moxley safe and sounds, napping and half buried in blankets.

Crouching down, Roman tried to get a better look at the mutt's face, some of which was hidden behind the shaggy hair. Curiosity got the best of him, simply because he had yet to get a really good look at Moxley's face without it being skewed by blood or a muzzle or whatever else, so he reached out and slowly began to tuck the strands away from the mutt's face.

With what had to be lightening quick reflexes, Moxley's was lashing out and clamping his teeth around the side of Roman's hand before his eyes were even fully open. Roman yelled in a mix of surprise and pain and fell backward onto his butt while Mox recoiled back into the blankets with a wide-eyed gaze fixed on the Samoan.

Roman couldn't tell if Mox looked more fearful or sorrowful at what had just happened. Glancing down at his bitten hand, he could easily see the indentions left behind by the teeth but it didn't seem like any blood would break the surface.

"Didn't mean to scare you," he attempted to soothe over the incident, shaking his hand like it would rid him of the ache.

Moxley blinked twice but didn't say a word. Roman wasn't sure if he knew how to speak at all, honestly. Maybe Antonio could shed some more light on this entire situation.

"Ro?" Seth's voice called down the staircase to him, "You okay? I heard yelling."

"Yeah, I'm good," Roman yelled back, eyes still glued to Moxley, "I found him. He was sleeping down here on the floor." Just like the mutts slept in their kennels, on their little make shift beds made of torn up rags and dirty sheets. A little pang of sadness filtered through him but he pushed it out of his head.

"Alright...I'm gonna start making breakfast, I'm fucking famished," Seth's voice was growing more quiet as he walked farther from the staircase but the words lured a loud growl from his belly.

"You have to be hungry," Roman spoke to Mox, not reaching out or making any other attempts to touch the mutt yet, "why don't we go up there and eat something?"

Mox seemed interested, perhaps recognizing some of those words, but still seemed very reluctant to leave the den he had built for himself. Roman noticed that his injured arm was still in the temporary brace but it was tucked close and tight to Mox's body.

"Okay, if you want to come up and get some food, we'll be right up the stairs," Roman climbed to his feet in the least threatening way he could manage and turned to head for the staircase. When he started to climb he noticed Moxley's head peeking out from around the corner of the box. It brought a smile to his lips but he didn't stop until he reached the kitchen.

* * *

"That doesn't surprise me," Antonio spoke over the rim of the coffee mug before taking a sip, "he has slept on the ground ever since Hunter brought him into the facility."

Antonio was all packed up and ready to go to the airport to head back to Europe. The flight wasn't until later in the evening and Roman had already scheduled to have a car take him to the airport when the time came. They had all been hanging around the kitchen for nearly an hour, aside from Sami who had to leave early but promised to return later, while Seth picked ingredients from the fridge and cupboards to throw together a breakfast for them. Pancakes and bacon were already being plated and some scrambled eggs with chopped up vegetables and cheese were in a bowl, ready to be served.

Still no sign of Moxley.

"So can he speak? Does he understand English or are there just certain commands?" Roman asked, knowing he would need to soak up every bit of information he could get out of Antonio before the man left. "Why can't we just go to the police now? We have Moxley as evidence."

"We're not sure what all he understands exactly, but there are a wide range of commands used at the Molossian and he knows all. I've only heard him speak a few times, simple words, and only spoken to Randy when they thought they were alone," Antonio's dark eyes brimmed with sadness and guilt, "I would have gone to the police myself if I thought it would have been beneficial. Hunter knows many of them, you know as well as I do that this is a corrupt nation. Any large sum of money will buy over a whole force of police, any powerful man can pull their strings like puppets. The McMahon's are very, very powerful. In fact, I wouldn't doubt it if they have already contacted the local police themselves to look for Moxley. Maybe not you, not yet, but definitely Moxley. As far as they are concerned, he's stolen property."

Roman frowned down at the plate of pancakes as they were slid in front of him, chewing on his bottom lip.

"C'mon, they're not that bad," Seth quipped at Roman frowning at the pancakes he'd made, probably an attempt to lighten the mood.

"No, no they look great," Roman smiled at his friend, who sat down across the kitchen table from him, "thanks, Seth. For everything."

Seth shrugged like it wasn't all a huge deal but that's usually the way the younger man dealt with emotionally situations such at this.

"And you said that they didn't have this address, correct?" Antonio brought the conversation back.

"No, all the invitations were always delivered to my place," Seth cut into his pancakes and reached for the bottle of syrup, "so I think I'll be staying here for a while."

"Good idea," Antonio bit off half of a slice of bacon and something over Roman's shoulder suddenly had his attention. Roman shifted in the seat to follow the man's gaze, looking behind him toward the staircase.

Moxley was watching them from the top stair, not even fully into the open living area just yet. His body language was guarded and he seemed far more alert than he had the night before, though he still wore only the black torn shorts. None of the men made any movement toward the mutt, instead turning back to each other to continue eating.

"Maybe we should put some food down for him," the European suggested.

"Down?" Seth questioned and Antonio looked guilty all over again.

"They always ate on the floor out of bowls, I don't think he would know what to do with a fork and knife," he explained before a smirk curved his lips, "I don't think it wise to give him any sharp utensils at all, actually."

Roman got up and retrieved a bowl from the cupboard, scooping some eggs and bacon into it. He brought it back to the table and bent down to place it on the floor nearby. Glancing at the mutt, he could tell that Moxley was very interested in that bowl.

Returning to the table, breakfast continued on as usual, complete with some chatter. They tried to keep the topics normal for now, at least normal for this situation they were in.

"I'm going to leave you a file that I have in my luggage, it should help out a little bit with finding out who Moxley really is and where he came from. Hunter only told us so much about him at the Molossian but all of the information I have is in that file."

"Thanks, Antonio, we owe you a lot." Roman clapped a friendly hand over the European's shoulder.

"No, I owe everything to you. As soon as I saw you jump into that pit to try to save Mox, with no regard of your own safety, I knew you were the one to trust." Antonio smiled warmly and the sound of a bowl scooting across the tile filled the room.

Moxley was near the table now- shit, how did he get there so quietly?- but he was stretching his good arm out as far as possible to reach for the bowl, not daring to come any closer to the table. Like a starving wild animal that was reluctant to take food from a human's hand.

Roman didn't do anything but watch out of the corner of his eye as the fingertips were finally able to curl around the rim of the bowl and it was dragged back across the ground into Moxley's hands, who then disappeared back through the doorway as quickly as he had appeared.

Antonio chuckled and Roman looked up to the bald man, in a mix of amusement and concern.

"He's never had eggs like this before," Antonio sipped his coffee again, leaning off the edge of his seat so he could look into the living area, "only that fake mix with protein added. Definitely not cheese or bacon."

Roman and Seth stared, unable to imagine a life without cheese and bacon, and it made Roman wonder what other things the mutt had never tasted before.

The bowl appeared around the corner of the doorway to the kitchen, scooted along by a hand while the rest of the body stayed out of sight, now completely empty. A soft but sharp whine followed. Antonio laughed again but stood up to pluck the bowl from the ground. He refilled the bowl with cheesy eggs and bacon and returned to place it back down in the same spot. The hand darted out to grab the bowl again.

"I won't give him anymore of he'll get ill but I'm sure he's enjoying that very much." There was a tone to his voice that practically shined with hope and relief that Moxley was out of that awful place and being treated to real food for once.

Roman had no idea what he had gotten himself into but if this was any indication, it was going to be a very interesting ride. During the remainder of breakfast the bowl appeared two more times. There was some more demanding whines and even a yipping noise of protest when Mox was denied another bowl of eggs but Antonio filled the bowl with fresh, cold water and that seemed to keep the mutt satisfied. For now.

Once Roman and Seth were gathering dishes for the dishwasher, cleaning up their mess, Antonio asked if he could have some alone time with Moxley. Roman agreed of course, simply because he knew that the ex-caregiver to the mutt was the only familiar thing in this entire scenario for Moxley and it could do him some good.

Antonio retreated down the stairs where Mox had eventually disappeared to and the cleaning of the kitchen was finished in silence.

"It's alright that I stay here for a while, yeah?" Seth asked Roman once they retired to the living room, "I mean, I could stay with my cousins but I thought you might need some extra help with...all this."

"You don't even have to ask," Roman pulled Seth into a one armed hug and ruffled the younger man's fluffy hair.

"Hey, hey, hands off the hair, I didn't get to dry it properly after my shower, okay?" Seth was handling everything very well and Roman was proud of him. Because he wasn't even sure how he was handling this himself. "I think I'm going to take Sami out later tonight though and just talk to him. I know he's got so many questions and he deserves an explanation. You think you'll be able to handle this alone for a couple of hours?"

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll just stay downstairs and sleep or whatever, but if I need you I'll call you." Roman glanced at the clock on the wall and rubbed both hands over his face. It was going to be a long day. "I still have to take him to meet Woods later so they can get his arm set right."

"We're gonna send all of our friends the best goddamn gift baskets," Seth laughed and Roman really had to agree with that.

* * *

"I'll make sure to contact you once I'm home safe," Antonio was saying his goodbyes in the foyer of the home, Roman and Seth taking turns to embrace the man. "I think he's going to be alright here. I tried to explain to him that you two are here to help him now, that he should trust you. I'm not sure if it got through to him or not but he isn't showing as many signs of discontent as I thought he might. Maybe he does understand all of this. It's difficult to tell with that one."

"We'll figure it out," Roman was quick with his reassurances, just as much for himself as it was for Antonio, "thanks again. I'm glad we were able to meet and get you out of there. Get your ass home and enjoy your life again."

Antonio smiled and he pulled Roman in for one more hug.

"Take care of him...he's had a very hard go at life, he deserves to know the world isn't all nightmares and malice." The words were spoken quietly to him, privately, and Roman nodded firmly. "Alright...goodbye you two, expect a call from me in a couple of days."

And just like that, Antonio Cesaro was out the door and out of Roman's life. And just like that, he was alone with and responsible for a practically feral man who was raised like a wild animal. Of course Seth was there, but Roman was in this for the long run. This wasn't anyone's responsibility but his own.

"I think I'm going to try to get a couple more hours of sleep in before we have to get him to Xavier's," Seth said through a yawn and Roman nodded his dismissal.

Eyeing the half cushionless couch, he found himself smiling. At least it was better than the chair. Stretching himself out on the remaining cushions, letting his legs fill in the space without, Roman took out his phone and started typing a message to Xavier to make sure they were still going to be able to set that appointment. He was off in dreamland before he got a reply.

There was no telling how much time had passed when Roman first felt the the touch on his arm. It felt soft and slow, light how a piece of cloth might feel while being dragged across his skin. Gray eyes opened and focused and he was met with the sight of blue eyes and messy hair. But before Roman could react the face of the mutt was gone. He sat up to glance over the back of the couch where he thought he'd seen the face and sure enough, Moxley was crouched down behind it, staring up at him.

Unsure of what to do, Roman decided to just lay back down like he had been, stretched across the couch. It only took maybe a full thirty seconds and Moxley's head appeared again. This was as clear of a shot of the mutt's face as Roman had gotten so far. There was still dirt and blood smudged over those cheeks but he could make out the set of pretty blue eyes, drawn downward slightly at the corners in sort of a droopy manner. A thin mouth that looked harmless and unable to open and reveal teeth that ripped the throats of other mutts wide open. A nose what was straight and could only be described as...cute. Yeah, it was definitely cute and Roman was seeing Moxley like this for the first time. Not some kind of blood thirsty, dangerous, wild creature.

There was that touch again and Roman realized he had been staring so hard at Moxley's face he hadn't noticed the hand snaking it's way back to his arm. His eyes shifted to the fingertips and he saw that they were tracing the patterns of the black ink that stained his right arm. Moxley was also looking at the tattoo now as he touched and Roman felt chills run down his spine.

"Do you like it?" he spoke up and the break of silence must have startled Mox because he briefly jerked back down behind the couch like a flighty stray, before he returned once more. Instead of speaking again, Roman held his heavily tattooed arm up for the inspection of the mutt.

Moxley touched again, cautiously, and then not so cautiously. He dragged a short, broken nail across the ink, perhaps to see if it would come off like the paints used to decorate the mutts before a fight. His brow furrowed and he leaned in closer, sniffing.

"It's a tattoo," Roman made sure his voice was more quiet this time, "it's permanent. It doesn't come off."

Moxley's eyes flickered to Roman for a second or two and then he was turning the arm this way and that, studying every little pattern he could find. Roman was smiling like a fool by the time the mutt had grown tired with the exercise and wandered away from the couch.

"Are you hungry again?" the Samoan asked but while Mox was standing now he could make out the bruises and cuts and dried grime on the pale body. His smile faded. Maybe they should try to get Mox cleaned up first. Checking the clock on the wall, he searched the couch for his phone to see that Xavier had messaged his back. The appointment was in an hour and a half. Surely that was plenty of time to get Moxley cleaned up. "Maybe we should draw you a bath first."

* * *

Roman had never had a pet, not since he was very young and the family dog was still around. He had never had to take care of the dog though, there were people hired to do that, and he certainly had never had to deal with the struggle of bathing a large, lanky dog.

Until now.

It had taken at least thirty minutes to get Moxley to follow him into the bathroom. Roman wasn't sure how they bathed the mutts before, or if they had just sprayed them down with a hose or something, but Mox didn't seem entirely familiar with the concept of a bath tub. As Roman ran the water in the large tub in his master bathroom, Moxley cocked his head to the side and watched the water fall to the bottom. More than once the mutt tried to lean over and lick the stream of water pouring from the faucet, only to growl when it was too hot for his tongue.

Roman could tell Mox was still uneasy around him. With every move he made he could see the mutt tense or step back to keep a safe distance between them, ready to bolt or fight if necessary. But at least there hadn't been a huge amount of resistance- whatever Antonio had talked to Moxley about, it must have done the trick.

A time came when Roman knew he was going to have to get Moxley out of those dirty shorts. He had no idea how they were even staying on, honestly, they looked like they might fall apart in a strong breeze. How was he supposed to go about this without getting bitten again? The collar was also still in place but Roman knew there was a lock that needed a key to open and remove it. Maybe they could find a way to cut it off later but he had to take things one step at a time.

"I'm going to have to take these off," Roman gestured to the shorts and Moxley stared at him blankly. Gesturing to his own shorts, Roman gripped the waistband and made a downward motion with them without actually stripping them off. Then he waved his hand to Moxley as if to say it was the mutt's turn.

Moxley stared back at him, perplexed. Roman sighed heavily. This wasn't anything like the movies where Jane would repeat something to Tarzan once and the ape man would understand right away.

"Uh..." Roman awkwardly shuffled toward Moxley, who visibly tensed, reaching for the waistband of the black shorts. It really did only take a hard tug, and with the added pressure of Moxley jumping back from him, the material ripped enough for Roman to pull it free and drop it to the ground.

Clearing his throat, he looked away, as if Moxley would feel scandalized by being naked in front of the man. Instead the mutt toed at the material on the ground, giving Roman one more questioning look, before his attention returned to the water coming out of the faucet.

Moxley didn't seem to care at all. Roman tried not to look anyway. Now, how to get the other male into the tub?

Obviously picking Moxley up right now wouldn't be his best bet. Roman risked his own pride enough to mime climbing into the tub once but the mutt fixed him with that look that made him feel like he the dumb one in this situation.

Roman tested out a few more ideas, all of them failing miserably, before he spotted his items laid out around the sink basin. Some hair care products, a razor- which he quickly hid in a drawer, a comb, a brush, and a tube of lipstick that Nikki had left behind when she broke up. It had been on the counter top since and Roman hadn't the heart to throw it out. But it was a very shiny chrome tube with a row of bright red jewels circling the top and it caught his eye right away so he picked it up and turned toward Moxley.

"Look at this," he held it out and turned it in his fingers, the overhead lights catching the gems and chrome finish of the tube, making it sparkle and glint. Moxley spared a glance at this strange item, looked back to the faucet, and then all at once was very interested in this shiny item. He inched closer to Roman, reaching for it, but the older man pointed to the water.

Moxley huffed out a breath of air and reached for the tube again. Roman shook his head and pointed at the water. When the mutt lunged for it, Roman tossed the tub into the tub and the thud of it hitting the bottom sounded out. Mox didn't hesitated before he went in after it.

Water splashed out hard enough to hit Roman in the face but he really couldn't complain because at least Moxley was sitting in the center of the tub, inspecting the tube closely. See? This wasn't so hard. Roman rolled his eyes at himself and reached for the soap. As long as Moxley was distracted by this somehow incredibly interesting shiny thing, Roman was able to start rubbing the soap over the uninjured arm. It was a small victory but it was a victory nonetheless.

A few minutes later he had worked up an impressive lather on Moxley's arm, shoulders and back, but when he moved to do the mutt's front he nearly dropped the soap.

"Moxley! No!" he had to pry the now open tube from Moxley's hand, fighting for the side that had what was left of the actual lipstick in it. The rest of the lipstick was smeared on Moxley's mouth and teeth and he was chewing a chunk of it up intently, glaring at Roman with the other end of the tube tightly clasped in his hand. Well, at least it wasn't toxic.

Shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the situation, Roman continued with the soap. It took an extra thirty minutes to get Moxley clean enough for the Samoan to feel satisfied. All of the blood, dirt and lipstick was gone so as far as he was concerned, it was a great success. He used a bit of his expensive shampoo in the mutt's hair and no matter how many times Roman told Mox to shut his eyes, the suds still got in them. That was an adventure all of it's own.

When Seth finally woke up and came to his room to look for him, Roman was trying to wrestle sweatpants onto Mox's legs. The younger man stood in the doorway and stared in shock before he dissolved into a fit of laughter.

"Don't just laugh, come help me, dammit!" Roman yelled and Seth went to his assistance.

By the time they had Moxley dressed in the sweatpants and a t-shirt, both of them had suffered at least one bite each. Shoes were definitely a no go, Mox had nearly kicked Seth in the face for touching one foot with the edge of a flip flop. All things considered, that seemed like a pretty decent outcome.

"I can't fucking believe he bit me on the shoulder," Seth was complaining as they ushered Mox out to the waiting car, using the empty end of the lipstick tube to distract and lead him into the backseat. "Jesus, look at him, are we sure he's even human?"

Roman took a good look at Mox and had to grin. He was gnawing on the tube, his hair was still damp and hanging around his face. Dressed in Roman's clothing, which was too big for the smaller frame, Mox looked much more like an oversized child.

"Just shut up and get in the car," Roman nudged Seth good-naturedly and the dark eyed man shoved back.

* * *

"It's a pretty clean break so I think it will heal just fine," Xavier held the x-ray sheet up to the light, squinting at the picture before he nodded, "the rest of the scans seemed alright too. From what I can tell, aside from the arm and the superficial injuries, he seems healthy."

Roman nodded, flooded with relief. He had plenty of money to cover the costs of medical treatments if they were needed but the less questions he had to answer about this, the better. Xavier was trustworthy, all of his friends were, but he didn't want to have to get a whole group of doctors and nurses involved.

"Thanks Woods, seriously, I owe you so big for this," Roman reached out to shake his friend's hand but he knew the question was coming before it left the shorter man's mouth. "I'll explain everything soon, I promise. Just know that you're helping out someone who would have never had a chance otherwise."

Xavier swallowed the question instead of voicing it and nodded, shaking Roman's hand firmly. Roman owed a lot of explanations by now but he knew that getting the people in his life together, the people he was the closest to, and explaining it all at once would be for the best. He wasn't going to be able to hide Moxley from everyone, he wouldn't even want to try, so this was the only course of action.

"Right then, let's get a cast on that arm and I'll send you home with some of the meds we have in the back and tomorrow I'll get a prescription called in for you," Xavier didn't miss a beat, turning to open a door to a small storage room to gather the materials he would need to set Moxley's arm in a cast.

They had left Moxley and Seth in one of the rooms while they discussed the results of the scans. Seth looked a bit frazzled as they returned and after a questioning look from Roman, the younger man just shook his head. He could only imagine the problems Moxley had given him while locked in the room together. He could see that several drawers around the room were in various stages of being opened.

"Alright, let's see get that temp cast off and we can fit you with a real one," Xavier reached out for Mox's injured arm and the mutt growled and scooted back on the examination table.

"Mox," Roman said in a warning tone and the mutt looked at him, challenging. "You have to let us do this or we're not leaving."

Several minutes had passed and they were barely able to get the temporary cast off of Mox. This seemed nearly impossible and Roman could tell Xavier was using up every ounce of patience he had.

Scanning the room, he noticed two jars on the counter. One was full of a variety of dog treats and the other was full of colorful lollipops. Without a word Roman crossed the room and pulled out a red lollipop.

"He doesn't get a treat until after!" Seth chimed in and Roman held up a hand to quiet him.

"Look at this, Mox," Roman unwrapped the lollipop and held it out to the mutt, who leaned closer in a suspicious manner. He sniffed the sucker once, twice, and then snatched it out of Roman's hand.

The first touch of Mox's tongue to the candy had the male jerking it away from his mouth quickly, surprised by the strong taste of sugar and artificial cherry. He sniffed it again and repeated the process, this time giving it a long, solid lick. Blue eyes wide, he looked at Roman before shoving it into his mouth. Moments later he was content with sucking away on the candy, giving Xavier time to get close and start to wrap the mutt's arm with the strips of plaster. Every so often Mox would look at Woods out of the corner of his eyes and show his teeth, but would go back to enjoying the lollipop like it was the best thing he had ever tasted.

It might have been the best, Roman thought again about what Antonio had said. He doubted the mutts were ever allowed anything more than bland, cheap feed, despite how much money the Molossian made. He decided not to think too hard about Moxley's many years spent trapped within the walls of that hellish place.

* * *

The ride back home had been uneventful for the most part since Xavier had given Roman several lollipops to take along. He had tucked them into his pocket and passed one back to the mutt halfway through the drive to keep him entertained. When they reached the driveway, Mox was asleep. His head was lolled back against the seat and the lollipop was still held between his lips. Roman had to carry the smaller male into the house and instead of putting him on the couch, he carried him back downstairs and left him in the den he had built.

Seth stayed for another half hour and then headed out to meet Sami, leaving Roman alone with his thoughts. What a fucking crazy day.

Roman had skipped lunch after the big breakfast that morning so his stomach was reminding him that he needed to eat. He wasn't much of a cook himself but he went through the items in his fridge and wrinkled his nose up at them. Maybe ordering out would be the best option. Calling in an order for a large pizza, Roman settled in the living room and turned the television on. He avoided all the news stations, somehow paranoid that he would stumble upon a breaking story about a kidnapping. As if he were in the wrong, as if Hunter and Stephanie would have any right to file a report.

It left a sinking feeling in his belly. What were they thinking now? What were they planning? He knew they weren't the type to just let something like this go, he knew that wouldn't be the last he had seen of them.

The doorbell rang some time later while Roman was mindlessly watching some sports talk show, about who was trading who in the NBA and who was renewing a contract. He hurried to the door to get his pizza, giving the driver a good sized tip, and then he carried the pizza to the kitchen. Grabbing a plate from one of the cupboards, he turned and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of Moxley standing just inside the doorway.

How the hell he could sneak up on him so easily without making a sound was beyond him, but Roman couldn't help but feel creeped out by it. The mutt was sniffing the air, didn't seem threatening at all, so Roman pressed a hand to his chest over his rapidly beating heart and tried to calm himself.

"I'm going to have to put a bell on you or something," he muttered, trying to ignore the feeling of unease. He knew that Moxley was dangerous. This mutt standing in his kitchen had killed countless amounts of others, Roman had seen him covered in blood after tearing a hole in a throat with his teeth. Before, Seth was still in the house with them. This time they were totally alone. He couldn't help but feel that sense of dread creep over him when he looked at Moxley standing there in the shadowed doorway, watching him the way that he was.

Turning on another light in the kitchen helped. It bathed Moxley in light and he looked less threatening with his arm in a cast, wearing Roman's sweatpants low on his small hips, the bottoms of the pants so big that Mox's bare feet were engulfed by them. The mutt sniffed the air again and his eyes locked on the pizza box.

"You want some of this?" Roman opened the box and the mutt shifted closer, peering at the pizza. Roman watched the emotions shift on Moxley's face from confusion to curiosity to joy and then back to hunger. "Come on, we'll watch tv and eat."

He picked up the box and some napkins, two bottles of water, and walked back to the living room. He could hear Moxley following him now, or maybe he could just feel the other male's presence.

Sitting down on the chair, Roman placed the pizza box and bottles of water on the coffee table in front of him and Moxley lingered around the table before finally hunkering down into a sitting position near the box of pizza. He was sniffing at it again, leaning in, so Roman reached out and picked up a piece to offer the mutt. Mox stared Roman in the eyes, unsure of whether or not to take it, but when he did finally take it he gripped the end with his teeth and pulled it free of Roman's grip. It fell to the floor and he leaned down, on all fours now, and started to munch away on it.

Of course he wasn't going to use his hands. Now there was pizza sauce all over the carpet. Oh well.

Roman took his own slice of pizza and started to eat it, picking up the remote control to flip through the channels on the big screen television mounted on the wall. The first time the channel changed over to a new one, Moxley's hear jerked up to look around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sounds. The moving pictures on the screen held his attention momentarily but pizza ended up winning out and he returned to his meal.

Eventually settling on a movie, some buddy cop film, Roman heard a whine and found Mox staring up at him expectantly. The pizza was gone but there was some sauce left around the mutt's mouth, which Roman couldn't help but find adorable.

"You want another one?" he asked and Mox studied Roman's hand very hard as it moved into the pizza box. Another slice was placed on the floor and they fell into a comfortable routine of eating and watching the movie. Well, Roman watched the movie, Mox just sort of stared at him silently when he needed another slice of pizza. After three slices though, Roman took the box back to the kitchen and returned with a bowl to pour the bottled water into. He placed it down for Mox, who lapped away at it, drinking and simultaneously cleaning the sauce from his face as well.

Everything was fine and dandy, Moxley seemed to be growing more comfortable and trusting with Roman as the day went on. Until a scene came on the screen and one of the cops drew a gun and fired off a round.

Mox was up and barreling down the staircase to his den so quickly that Roman could barely register what happened. What the fuck? More gunshots rang out from the television and he looked up to see the battle raging on. Oh.

 _Oh._

There was a pang in his heart when he realized that the sound of a gunshot is what triggered the beginning of a match at the Molossian. Moxley must have heard it and thought another mutt was coming for him. Roman frowned and turned the channel, finding something that was decidedly less threatening. Some animated Disney movie with a lot of singing and talking animals.

Roman was trying to fight off the feelings of guilt he felt. Of course he hadn't meant to scare Moxley but they had been doing so well. They had come so far in just a day and now he was afraid it was all ruined.

Much to his relief, no more than ten minutes later, he saw Moxley cautiously climbing the stairs. The mutt stayed in the safety of the stairwell, looking around for any signs of danger before he crossed the room and made himself comfortable at Roman's feet.

When Seth returned an hour later he would find the credits to the movie rolling, Roman passed out in the chair and Moxley curled up in a ball on the ground, next to Roman's feet. He woke Roman to make him go to his own room and sleep in a real bed for the night and the older man sleepily climbed to his feet.

"Come on, Mox," he murmured, the slumbering mutt's eyes blinking open to look at the figures retreating down the hallway to the bedrooms. Roman paused to wait, waiting to see if Moxley would follow or not.

The mutt got up and stood still, watching Roman for what felt like a full minute but was probably merely a third of that, before padding over to the staircase and disappearing from sight.

Roman couldn't help but feel a little stab of something but Seth was urging him on, insisting that it was late and they all needed a good night's rest. He was right, but as Roman made it to the bedroom he decided to leave his door open, just in case.

Hey, it was progress.


	6. Man or a Monster

Two days have passed and Roman still isn't sure what the hell he is doing with his life. After basically kidnapping and saving a man who thinks he's some kind of animal from the human equivalent to a dog fighting ring, Roman thinks he might be losing his grip on reality a little bit. His father had been calling, leaving messages that he can't bring himself to listen to yet- not now. There would be time to deal with his father later, but not now.

Yesterday had been a lot like the day before. Moxley would come around for food and water and then disappear back downstairs for hours at a time. Roman ended up taking a few bottles of water and a big bowl down there so Moxley would have something to drink at all times. There were a few trinkets from around the house scattered about his blanket den. Some lollipops and wrappers, the shiny end of the lipstick tube, a comb, some coins, things he really wasn't going to miss so he left them be. After Roman attempted to take the couch cushions back upstairs, it was only about half an hour before they ended up back where he had found them the first time. He replaced the couch cushions with regular pillows from his bedroom- at least for now.

Other than that, there hadn't been much more interaction until night fell and Roman returned to the living room for a movie. After skipping around through the channels he curiously left it on a station that showed mostly cartoons. About a hour into the programs, Moxley ascended the stairs and lounged on the far end of the sofa to watch. When it was time for bed he waited for Roman to head for the hallway before retreating downstairs.

Today was going to be different, Roman could feel it...as soon as he was woken up by a loud shriek. Nearly falling out of bed in his attempt to get through the door, he was met with a blushing Seth at the end of the hallway.

"What's wrong?" Roman asked, eyes wide, searching for any reason why Seth would be screaming. What time was it even?

"Sorry I just used my key to get in, I left my bag here when I left," the younger man quickly began to explain himself but trailed off and pointed toward the kitchen.

Roman wandered closer, cautious and confused, until he saw what had startled Seth.

A very naked Moxley rummaging through the kitchen cupboards. He didn't seem too concerned with Seth's outburst either. Roman, relieved that it wasn't something serious, started to laugh.

"What, never seen a naked dude before?"

"Listen, I just wasn't expecting it, I thought he stayed downstairs!" Seth was trying to gather himself, eyes narrowed at Roman as if this were somehow his fault. "Do you not put him in clothes?"

"I do, I mean...I try," Roman shrugged and smiled, running a hand through his long hair to scoop it back away from his face, "he just doesn't seem very fond of them. I think we got a nudist on our hands."

As if on cue, Moxley padded out of the kitchen in nothing but the collar that still encircled his neck. He had a box of cereal clutched to his chest with his good arm, the plastered arm tucked into his side safely, and a small bag of chips dangling from his teeth. Roman tried to advert his gaze elsewhere but Moxley didn't seem to mind the two men staring at him.

"Mornin'," Roman grinned through his greeting and Moxley's blue eyes shifted between the two of them, then he promptly turned and disappeared down the stairs.

"Jesus," Seth dramatically slapped a hand over his face and shook his head, "put some clothes on him, for Christ's sake."

Roman shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, because it wasn't, and walked to the kitchen with Seth trailing behind him. The mess wasn't as bad as he had been expecting, just some items strewn about the counters in different stages of being opened. A box of Mini Wheats had been discarded on the floor, pieces of the cereal scattered, probably after a failed taste test from the mutt. After inspecting the remaining cereal boxes, he realized Mox had made off with the Lucky Charms.

"Right, well, since your house has plunged into chaos..." Seth must have been in a grumpy mood today if the dramatics were any indication, "but I have work to do. So I'll see you later."

Roman waved and Seth exited the kitchen to retrieve his bag. Before the younger man left the house, he had ignored his foul mood long enough to tell Roman to call him if he needed anything.

"Will do!" the older man called back, beginning to pick up the mess. Today was going to be a long day.

* * *

The file Antonio had left Roman hadn't exactly been helpful to him, it didn't get him any closer to knowing who Moxley was or where he came from, but he knew someone who might be able to help out.

John Cena. Officer John Cena. John was an old family friend whose father had since passed, but had been close friends of Sika's. He also happened to be a cop but despite that, Roman hadn't hesitated on contacting him. He probably should have done it sooner but the dust needed to settle before he could even begin to navigate his way through this situation. John was a good man, one of the best men Roman knew, and after serving in the military for several years he had ended up joining the local police force.

Roman felt bad for not being a better friend to John after his father had passed away, but at the time he had been working on getting his footing right out of college, and about ten years separated them in age. There wasn't much they might have had in common but Roman knew above all else, he could trust John.

"I just need to know what you can find out with this information," Roman passed the folder over to John, who was parked outside of the house, "you'll have questions but if you help me with this, I'll have answers for you too."

John took the folder through the open window and flipped it open, thumbing through the pages and a couple of photos, brow furrowed.

"I already have questions," he said but left it at that for now, shutting the folder to put in the passenger's seat, "I'll see what I can do. I'll call you later."

"Thanks, man," Roman patted the side of the police car, "you have no idea how much I appreciate this. You're really gonna be helping my friend out."

"Hey, any friend of the Reigns' family is a friend of mine," John grinned his big, good guy grin and gave Roman a nod before pulling out of the driveway.

Roman watched the police vehicle pull away, ignoring the gnawing at his gut that he shouldn't get the police involved in any way. Cena was a good guy, a good cop, trustworthy, always one to do the right thing. But he couldn't shake the feeling of unease as he returned to his house and locked the doors up tight behind him.

* * *

As noon approached, Roman decided to check on Moxley downstairs, who had been quiet since earlier that morning. It was almost lunch time and he needed to know if Mox was ready to eat again or if that box of cereal was going to hold him over for a while longer.

"Mox?" The only response he got was the sound of a wrapper wrinkling and Moxley's head poked around the corner of the boxes, some of which had been moved to create an even bigger barrier for his den. "You hungry?"

Roman moved around the make shift wall and his eyebrows raised high on his forehead at the sight. The cereal box was torn open and discarded to the side and the entire portion of the grain cereal, the part that was probably supposed to be good for you, had been tossed aside. There wasn't a single colorful marshmallow left in sight.

Moxley stared up at him almost like a guilty dog in one of those videos Roman had seen on the internet, all doe eyes and shaggy hair and droopy body language. The bag of chips was off to the side and Roman couldn't tell if there was any left in there or not. He also couldn't tell if Moxley was actually feeling guilty or not. He was leaning toward not.

"You're gonna give yourself a stomach ache," Roman sighed and put his hands on his hips but didn't scold the mutt for the mess the downstairs was becoming. "Don't you get bored down here? There's nothing to do."

If Mox understood what the older man was saying, he didn't show any indication of it but he never took his eyes off of Roman. He had always heard that learning English, at any age, was always easier if the person was submersed in the language. Talking a lot to Mox was only going to help.

"Why don't you come upstairs and I'll make something more solid for lunch?" he motioned for Moxley to follow him and headed for the stairs, only glancing back once he had reached the top. He was surprised to find Moxley standing right behind him, watching him expectantly. Roman reminded himself to ignore the fact that the mutt was bare-ass naked.

In the kitchen he let Mox explore while he put together some sandwiches for them, making sure to watch the mutt out of the corner of his eyes at all times. Mox mostly just wanted to touch everything, to pick things up, to see what their purpose was. When he got into the silverware drawer though, Roman was quick to distract him with the sandwich.

"Mm, look at this," he waved the plate containing the turkey and cheese sandwich in front of Mox's face and the mutt reached for it, "let's sit."

Roman took a seat at the table and Mox hesitated, eyeing up the chair before he studied the way Roman was sitting in his. It wasn't perfect or graceful but he sat in the other chair and hunched over the table to reach for the sandwich. Roman grinned at the progress but kept quiet, simply watching as Moxley started to lean down to grab the sandwich with his teeth.

Clearing his throat to get the mutt's attention, Roman picked up his own sandwich and brought it to his mouth to take a bite. Mox watched closely and then did the same, chewing with his mouth wide open, but at least it was a step in the right direction. Halfway through his chewing cycle he began to flinch and wrinkle his nose. Flopping the sandwich down on the table next to the plate, he poked at the sandwich and pulled it open. Once he located the tomato he raised it to his nose, sniffed it, and then cringed.

"Don't drop it-" Roman paused as the tomato hit the ground with an audible splat and Mox showed his teeth at the offending vegetable, as it lay helpless on the tile. Or was it a fruit? Roman could never remember. Whatever it was, Moxley was not a fan.

The rest of lunch went on without anymore problems or hold ups and instead of immediately vacating the upstairs, Moxley stayed put. Roman cleaned up the kitchen and the younger man's gaze followed him about. If felt like the mutt was always watching him, those eyes digging right through him, only this time it was different. This time he didn't feel like he was being hunted or sized up. He didn't feel like a lamb stuck in a pen while a wolf licked it's chomps.

"I have some things to do, you can hang out up here if you want," Roman told Moxley as he left the kitchen and he heard the chair scoot across the floor, followed by the sound of bare feet on the tile. Moxley followed him, keeping somewhat of a distance, but this was new. This was progress.

The office was a big room with a desk covered in papers and notebooks, a closed laptop right in the center. There was a large window behind the desk and a lot of photos hanging on the wall in expensive frames. Roman sat down at the desk and opened the laptop to boot it up. Seconds later Mox was peeking into the room.

Still naked as the day he was born, which Roman was paying more and more attention to against his better judgement, the mutt entered the room and began to explore. Moxley was lean and lithe and Roman could see the muscles move beneath the skin because there wasn't anything covering them but skin. He looked like he had been nearly starved, ribs showing, hipbones slightly jutting. He didn't have much body hair, aside from the obvious places,and what he did have on his arms and legs, it was light in color and didn't show up well. He had to be young, early to mid twenties, Roman reckoned. The pale skin was smooth and the scars he wore had faded nicely but the Samoan could still see the marks, physical badges the mutt wore as evidence of his journey. Of his success.

Roman wanted to touch but as soon as that thought entered his head he forced it out. Lusting after other guys wasn't something he had ever dabbled in so he was chalking this weird attraction up to something else entirely. Obsession. He was obsessed with Moxley just because he wanted to save him, to free him, to fix what was broken. It was a fascination.

Then why was he watching the way Mox's jaw looked when his head tilted back to observe the photos on the wall? Why did he that adorable mop of hair look so good on him when it would look ridiculous on anyone else?

Shaking his head at his own train of thoughts, Roman shoved the lid to his laptop open and made it a point not to look at the other male. He had to focus on work.

"R...Ro..."

"Hm?" Roman muttered before he realized what that scratchy, raspy rumble was and he jerked his head up to stare at Moxley. The mutt had his good arm raised and he was pointing at a photo on the wall. It was from Roman's birthday last year and in the photo he was sitting among Seth, Xavier, Kofi and a few other people, at a bar. On his head was a bright pink wig one of the his friends' girlfriends had worn out that night.

Moxley tapped his finger on the photo of Roman's face and looked over his shoulder at the man sitting behind the computer.

"Ro," he repeated, tapping Roman's face on the photo again for emphasis, "Ro...Ro...man."

The Samoan fell in love with that voice the instant he heard it. If he could even call it a voice, it was still more like a weird growl that somehow formed a word, shaped by vocal chords that hadn't been used for many years outside of the snarls and grunts and barks. It was the opposite of nails on chalkboard to his ears though, and it suited Moxley perfectly.

"Roman, yeah! That's me," he was all smiles now, "so you can talk, huh?"

"Ro-man." Moxley tried again and though the name seemed like it was broken up into two separate words, it was his name. The mutt whipped around and pointed at Roman. "Ro-man!"

"You got it, man, that's my name," Roman made sure his voice held a praising tone and he smiled wide at the other male.

And now Moxley was smiling back and Roman saw nothing but dimples. The mutt was proud of himself, preening, chest puffed out.

"Ro-man, Ro-man, Ro-man," Moxley repeated as he walked around the room and pointed out Roman's face in every photo he could see.

"Can you see Seth?" the older man asked, climbing to his feet, work all but forgotten. He joined Moxley's side near the wall of photos and the smaller male made no move to put any distance between them for once. "You know Seth, right?"

"Ss..." Moxley's brow lowered as he concentrated of forming the name, "Sse...th."

"Good!" Roman laughed as Moxley pointed out Seth's face in another photo, "Very good."

Roman spent the next hour with Moxley in the office, helping the mutt learn names and other simple words. He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled so hard, for so long, that his cheeks ached when they were finished.

* * *

By mid-day, Moxley was a complete ball of energy. He was darting around, jumping on the chair, trying to get into the cupboard again. Roman realized it had been nearly three days of being couped up without any way to release energy. He wasn't sure what sort of training schedule or drills they had made Moxley run at the Molossian but he did know the mutt must have plenty of energy pent up inside.

So he made the decision to bribe the mutt into putting on some pajama pants and a t-shirt, still no shoes though, so he could take him outside. Moxley had yet to do anything to force Roman not to trust him when it came to running away, so he didn't think much more of it as he led the way outside.

"Stay with me," Roman warned and soon they were on a path that wound behind the house and down an incline into a grassy area. Just past the clearing there was a set of old wooden stairs that would take them to the beach. The beach wasn't like a typical beach, there were tiny pebbles mixed in with the sand and the waters were too cold to do much swimming in. Every now and again some surfing competitions were held in the area where the waves got bigger, but this was a peaceful stretch. And a private one.

As Roman trudged through the grass he paused when he noticed Moxley wasn't next to him anymore. The mutt had stopped dead in his tracks where the sidewalk met the grass, staring down at the greenery.

"It's just grass, have you never touched grass?" Roman asked and his heart broke when Moxley could only give him a confused look. Had the mutt really never felt grass under his feet?

Moxley grazed the top of the grass with one foot cautiously before putting his weight down onto it and pressing his bare foot into the soft, springy earth. The other foot soon followed and all ten toes wiggled into the grass. Mox looked up at Roman with one of those smiles that made his heart nearly stop.

"C'mon, if you think that's cool wait until you feel the sand," Roman couldn't hide the excitement from his voice as he made his way to the stairs, "you're going to love this stuff."

Sure enough, Moxley was stomping his feet around in the sand within moments of experiencing it for the first time. It was like watching one of those videos where the animals are released into the wilderness for the first time, after spending their lives in captivity.

How was this any different?

Roman found a rock to sit on and he lounged there, watching the other male sprinting and jumping and burning off all that energy. Any trace of that creature he had seen in the cage at the Molossian had vanished, replaced with what was more like an over excited puppy.

The waves rolled up onto the shore and this eventually caught Moxley's attention but the mutt didn't dare go too close to the crests of water crashing into the beach. Instead he would follow the water out a ways, then turn tail and run back up the beach as the waves chased after him. He looked like the sand pipers that ran back and forth, searching for tiny clams and snacks in the sand. Roman decided it was adorable.

The sun started to dip down low on the horizon when he was able to finally wrangle Moxley up to go inside. The mutt was exhausted now but happy, panting with a sated look in his blue eyes as they started the hike back up to the house. Dinner came and went like lunch, with Mox sitting at the table and awkwardly eating with his hands even though there was a fork present this time. Still, it was progress.

* * *

"I searched through our databases and I think I got something for you," the voice of Officer Cena on the other end of the receiver had Roman's stomach in knots, "I found a couple of things from the mid-nineties."

Roman checked on Moxley in the living room to see him scribbling on some pieces of paper he had given him, holding the pen awkwardly in his uninjured hand and dragging it across each page. He had made a mental note to ask Seth to pick up some drawing pads, coloring books and crayons the next time his friend was coming over.

Reassured that Moxley was distracted and taken care of for a while, Roman ducked back into his office to speak privately with Cena.

"What did you find?" he brought out a notepad and a pen of his own in case he needed to write anything down.

"Back in 1996 in Cincinnati, Ohio there was a little boy that went missing at the age of five," he began and there was the sound of notes rustling as Cena looked through his information, "a neighbor reported it, a Mr. Regal, who apparently was close to the boy. The parents never reported the child missing but Mr. Regal's statement said that they stuck around for maybe two more weeks and then abandoned the house and took off. Never put it up for sale or anything, just grabbed some stuff and left. He never saw them again."

Roman jotted some notes down, frowning, reminding himself to keep a level head about this. The less questions he needed to answer right now, especially to a police officer, the better.

"Mr. Regal said before that before they left they had purchased a new sports car and their wardrobes had been replaced with more expensive, designer clothing. These were people who never had any money, according to him, and it was very odd that suddenly they would come into so much of it without explanation. When he approached them and asked about their son, they said that he had gone to stay with his aunt and uncle. But Mr. Regal had never known of his neighbors to have siblings in the many years he had lived next to them."

"This is all too much of a coincidence to be wrong," Roman spoke up, pen pressed so hard to the paper that it was starting to leave an impressive dent in the notebook.

"I checked out every other story that I could find that sounded similar but this was the only one that had the right time frame. The most interesting part was that Mr. Regal also reported that he overheard them saying suspicious things. After the boy went missing he had taken it upon himself to find out any information that he could, in case the boy ended up being found dead somewhere. Apparently they weren't the best parents and would often go out for hours and leave the boy alone at a young age and he would end up stepping in and watching over the boy until they returned home, drunk and strung out. So he would try to eavesdrop when they were outside and would pay extra attention to them when they were coming and going. He said the night that they disappeared he heard the mother say that she, and I quote, 'couldn't believe they got so much for the kid'. The case was abandoned after about six months because no new leads were ever found. They must have done a really good job covering their tracks."

Roman knew then that this was the right case. This what the one. Hunter had said they had bought Moxley off of some young parents who desired riches more than their own son. What the fuck was wrong with people?

"This is all great, John, really...you've been a huge help," Roman wrote a few more things down and then paused, "did you get a name?"

"Uh, yeah," the sound of more papers being shuffled around, "Dean Ambrose."

* * *

When Roman hung up with Officer Cena several minutes later, he had to take a few deep breaths and level himself out. There was nothing that could be done about what happened back then. Roman would never find the parents, didn't even want to find the parents, honestly. It was too late for all of that, all he could do now was making sure Mox-...Dean had a good life.

Dean Ambrose.

Roman entered the living room to find the mutt still sitting among a mess of loose sheets of paper, not a single blank one left. The drawings had evolved from scribbles to shapes and more distinct patterns instead of just inky chaos.

"Hey," Roman kept his voice soft, even, "Dean?"

The mutt's hand slowed and then stilled all at once. Blue eyes narrowed and searched the page, as if he were trying to find something, trying to recall something. Trying to remember something.

"Is that your name? Dean Ambrose?" Roman tried again but those blue eyes were suddenly locked on his. They were as turbulent as the sea outside now, confused, frustrated. He could tell that Dean could remember but didn't know why or how. "It's alright, Dean. We're going to figure all of this out...I promise."

The mutt stared at the ground for a few long moments and then he was up, dropping the pen into the now empty spot where he had sat, and he was gone down the stairs in an instant.

Roman stayed put, watching the spot Dean had disappeared into as if he expected to see him reappear. He hoped for it, at least. Minutes passed, he wasn't sure how many, but still no Dean.

His bedroom felt extra lonely and cold as he climbed into bed almost a full hour later. He had showered, brushed his teeth, repeated that name over and over again in his mind.

Dean Ambrose. What would Dean's life be like today if his parents hadn't sold him off into a world of violence and death?

Before Roman could fall into an uneasy sleep, he heard something in the hallway and glanced up to find his door slowly creaking open. Dean appeared in the doorway, hesitant, before the mutt entered. Dragging behind him was a cushion and several blankets. He could tell that the clothing had been shed once again and Dean was as naked as a bluejay.

Roman watched as Dean messily arranged the cushion and blankets on the floor in the corner against the wall, near where the Samoan laid on the bed. He didn't say a word, he just simply watched as Dean dropped down onto the pile and curled himself up, shifting around until he was comfortable. A heavy sigh left the nest of linens and then all was still and quiet in the room.

Maybe Roman's slumber wouldn't end up being as uneasy as he thought. Maybe one day Dean would trust him enough to sleep in the bed next to him. Had Dean slept in a bed at all since he was taken from his home? Hopefully he would be able to show the younger male what a real bed felt like.

But he wasn't about to argue with progress.


	7. Centuries

** NOTE: I just wanted to thank everyone who has been keeping up with this story and leaving me helpful feedback, it is really appreciated and it helps me push forward with it. Sorry about the delay, I wanted to take my time with this chapter and really plot out the rest of the story as I wrote it so I knew what direction I was going on. I also want to thank this one anon in particular who left me some important feedback- I tried my best at taking your advice and hopefully I did a little better. Thank you for helping out! Alright, I'm done now, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! **

* * *

Two days had passed since the first night Dean had slept on the floor of Roman's bedroom. Each night Roman had to resist the urge to invite Dean into his bed. Even if it were for wholly innocent reasons, he figured it would be a tad bit morally unjust. At least for now he felt it would be.

Another issue kept him up at night though and try as he might to ignore it, Dean's whimpers and thrashing about woke him up every single time. Night terrors, he assumed. Dean had been subjected to horrors that Roman could only begin to imagine so it didn't shock him to find that Dean came with that sort of baggage.

Dean would come with a lot of baggage, he reckoned.

"What do you dream about?" Roman asked nonchalantly as he cooked breakfast in the morning, leaving a nearly naked Dean to sit patiently at the table. Pseudo-patiently, more like, but they were working on that still.

"Dream?" Dean mimed back at him, eyebrows raised in curiosity. He had begun to really pick up words the last couple of days thanks to Roman's almost constant rambling and the amount of television shows he sat through.

"Yeah, you know, like...what happens when you sleep. What do you see?" Roman had come to realize that Dean might understand more of the English language than he let on but communicating it back was the big road block.

Dean went silent at the table, brow falling until he was making an expression halfway between a pout and a scowl. Roman paused at the stove, giving him his full attention. There was a shift in Dean's features and then those blue eyes locked on Roman's own, full of sadness and sorrow.

Roman regretted bringing it up immediately.

"Randy," Dean murmured, the R sound wasn't as strong, making the same sound almost like 'Andy", but Roman got the idea. "Randy..."

Dean seemed frustrated that he couldn't further convey his thoughts through words and he dug the fingernails of his good arm into the surface of the table.

"Hey, it's alright...we don't have to talk about it," Roman attempted to comfort his companion from across the room but Dean didn't let him finish.

"Randy...gone?"

Roman was at a loss honestly because what else was he supposed to do but confirm what Dean was probably fearing the most. Maybe in Dean's mind he had somehow been able to convince himself that Randy lived on, that Randy was only injured back at The Molossian that fateful night.

"Yeah, buddy," Roman's voice was somber and he avoided looking in Dean's direction, "he's gone."

The silence the fell over the room felt so heavy that Roman couldn't scramble the eggs any further, like his arm was weighted down by it. Then there was the scuff of the chair's legs against the floor, followed by the sound the bare footsteps leading away from the kitchen in a hurry.

"Good job," Roman muttered at himself, hurrying through the preparation of the eggs so he could take them off the burner and follow after Dean. He checked the living room, the office, and then finally found Dean sitting on his messy den.

"Gone," Dean's eyes were welling up with tears but he angrily turned away so Roman couldn't see. Roman took that as a cue to give him a little time to himself.

"Breakfast is ready when you are, buddy."

Three hours passed when Dean finally left the room, pausing in the doorway of the office where Roman was typing away at his laptop. There was a lot of work to catch up on and with his father breathing down his neck, Roman was doing his best to tear through it.

Dean held his cast up enough to get Roman's attention, shaking it slightly to further get his point across. The arm was aching. Roman checked the time at the bottom left hand corner of his laptop and realized it was a couple hours past the time Dean usually took his medicine that Xavier had given them for the pain. It was supposed to be taken with breakfast but since Dean had run off, Roman hadn't thought about it.

"Sorry, let's get your medicine," Roman stopped what he was doing and climbed to his feet to lead the way to the kitchen, but as soon as he opened the drawer to retrieve the pill bottle, Dean growled. He stood there with the same stubborn look on his face and Roman exhaled a heavy sigh. "You know you're going to have to take this, it's the only thing that'll make your arm stop hurting."

Roman wasn't sure if Dean had been given many pills before at the Molossian or what that had entailed. Had he been beaten? Had the pills had some sort of undesired side effect? Most of this whole learning experience had been a guessing game, a lot had to be assumed, especially without the help of Antonio.

Taking a pill from the bottle, he filled up a plastic cup with water and placed both of them onto the counter top expectantly. Dean eyed them both before his lips curled upward just enough to show the white of his teeth and Roman adopted a rather stern expression.

"Dean," he kept his tone light and not as authoritative, "please? You know it makes you feel better."

The blue eyes became sharper at the use of that name instead of Moxley, but all the muscles seemed to relax and go slack. That had been the case almost every time that Roman used Dean instead of the name given to him by Hunter, as if it reminded Dean of his own humanity, that he wasn't just some kind of animal placed on the Earth for the enjoyment of others. It certainly seemed to do the trick this time around.

Just to make sure it was known that the defiance was still very much present, Dean scooted the glass and pill across the counter top, away from him. At least this was better than having the pill spat on the ground or stomped on.

That invisible light bulb lit up in Roman's head and he almost grinned but instead cleared his throat and turned toward the cupboard. He had been having to bribe Dean with snacks to take the medicine. The fact that he had merely pushed the pill away instead of hurling it across the room like he had the first time, it all added up in Roman's head now.

"If you take it, you can have a handful of these," Roman shook a bag of frosted animal cookies in Dean's direction. The cookies had been a favorite of his when he was a child and Dean seemed to be fond of them as well.

And just as expected, those blue eyes warmed up and the curl of the lips disappeared and he picked up the pill and swallowed it down with a swig of water, sticking his tongue out afterward to show Roman the pill was gone.

"Good!" Roman praised and opened the bag of cookies so Dean could take a handful of the treats before they were placed back into the cupboard. It was already becoming too easy for Dean to manipulate him, he knew he needed to put his foot down at some point. Eventually. But with a flash of those dimples as Dean ran off into the living room, chomping away on the cookies, he knew he would let Dean get his way more often than not.

As he passed back through the living room on his way to the office, Dean was sitting on the floor and pointing at the television.

"Adventure Time." Dean pushed a few buttons on the remote laid out in front of him but Roman was quick to snatch it up. The last time Dean pressed buttons it had taken him at least an hour and a half to figure out what damage had been done to his tv settings.

"Let's see," Roman hummed as he flipped through the channels and ended up pulling up the 'on demand' section where certain shows had been stored by full seasons, "alright, here we go."

After starting up the program for Dean, who seemed to love the show and had been quoting it like crazy- which left Roman in the dark more often than not- he returned to the office to get back to work. Right away he felt the urge to close the laptop and join Dean in the living room but he had been putting all of this off for way too long. His father was going to have a melt down if he didn't finish his reports by the end of the week, and he only had until six in the afternoon to complete the one he had been working on. Then there was a whole other mess to worry about.

* * *

"Why haven't you gone to the cops with this?" Xavier asked, obviously taken aback by the information that had been presented to him.

Roman had called that meeting, to explain to everyone what he had promised to explain. The living room was full now- Seth, Xavier, Kofi, Sami and a girl with bright orange hair named Becky. They all sat around, scattered on the floor or various pieces of furniture, watching Roman with shocked expressions. All except Seth, of course. The most shocked face award went to Becky. Becky was Xavier's girlfriend and an all around trustworthy, stand up person. That's the only Roman allowed her to be present, he knew he could trust her. Xavier had given his word on it as well, in hopes that she might also be able to help out with the peculiar situation.

"Antonio said it was no use, that people have tried in the past but they have so much money they pay off the right people and nothing ever comes of it," Roman explained sadly, "I mean, think of how much money they're raking in every month with these things."

"An obscene amount," Seth added, the only one in the room who wasn't currently struggling to understand the flurry of information. "Even if they did have a soul, why would they stop if they were making so much money?"

"Because it's severely fucked up, itn'it?" Becky burst out, unable to keep quiet any longer, "How could they do something so awful?"

Becky was from Ireland but she had been in the states for nearly ten years now. She had been dating Xavier for about three of those years. Roman was pretty sure they were going to end up getting married, at least he hoped so. Becky was a great person and helped keep Xavier grounded. Sometimes her accent was hard to understand but this time Roman heard her loud and clear.

"Trust me, I still don't know how I was able to stomach any of it..." Roman trailed off, feeling guilty for even having been part of such a thing.

"It's a good thing, what you did," Kofi must have sensed it and spoke up, "getting Dean out of there and giving him a real chance at life."

The rest of the room nodded and voiced their support for Roman's decision, and while Roman knew it was a good thing that he had done, he knew it wasn't over. It was far from over.

"Until they come to get their boy back," Seth's tone was grim, saying what everyone else had been thinking, and Sami nudged his knee with his own, a signal to keep quiet about the doom and gloom.

"I'm happy to have been able to help," Sami piped up, offering a comforting smile in Roman's direction, "I was able to piece a little bit of it together but now it all makes sense. I just wish we could go back for the rest of those poor people."

An uneasy silence fell over the room, Roman could feel their thoughts churning, trying to come up with plans to do exactly what Sami had suggested. Roman had thought of it himself, of course he had, but he knew the reality of the situation.

"Unfortunately, I think it would be a suicide mission," he stood up from his spot on the chair, "they'd be expecting it. They've probably doubled down on security. Tripled, even. There's just no way that's possible. The only way they're going to be free is if The Molossain is shut down for good."

Just as Xavier was about to speak up, all eyes in the room suddenly shifted to the left of Roman and their expressions changed drastically.

"Oh for crying out loud!" Seth rolled his eyes and threw his arms in the air. Sami politely adverted his gaze to the floor, lips held tight in an attempt to stifle laughter. Xavier was covering Becky's eyes and Kofi was snickering and gesturing over Roman's shoulder.

Dean stood totally nude, a little cautious, but his caution dropped when he noticed that some of these faces were familiar. Roman had immediately stepped in front of Dean to block him from view but soon Dean was moving around Roman, unaware that his nudity was throwing off the whole vibe. How could anyone be serious about anything now?

"Seth!" Dean pointed right in the man's face, chest puffed out proudly as the man in question shoved a pillow at Dean's private area.

"Cover yourself up, geez," but even Seth was laughing now, the tension draining away from all of Roman's friends.

"Sami! 'Savior!" Dean was pointing out each person, having a little trouble with Xavier's name, "Kofi!"

"He knows who we are?" Kofi asked, a mixture of impressed and confused.

"It's a thing we do," Roman tried to explain as he eased Dean back away from Becky, "he likes to look at the photos on the wall in my office and I tell him all of your names."

"Ooh," Dean was cooing and rumbling at Becky's bright orange hair, trying to touch it and grab for it and Roman kept swatting his good hand away gently, while Becky chuckled.

"It's alright! He can touch it," she leaned in closer and held her hand out for Dean to shake, "hi, Dean. I'm Becky!"

Dean stared at the hand for a moment, far more interested in the hair, but Roman guided his hand to Becky's extended one. He grabbed it and held it firm, studying it as if he expected something more to happen.

"Hi Dean, I'm Becky," Dean mimed the words right back and Becky practically dissolved into giggles.

"Oh my god, he's adorable," she took her hand back and narrowly avoided getting her hair yanked as Roman pulled Dean away.

"Come on, let's get some clothes on you," Roman grinned and led him down the hallway to the bedroom while Dean repeated Becky's name over and over again.

"I'm the only adorable one here," Roman could hear Xavier's pouty tone fading behind them, followed by Becky's reassurance that Xavier was still her favorite.

The mood in the room had lifted, if only for the time being. Roman was thankful they had a chance to see Dean like this and not some kind of bloodthirsty heathen like they might have expected.

* * *

The day went on as usual after everyone left, with Roman playing catch up with work and Dean watching movies and shows on the big screen television in the living room. Clothed now, of course. Every now and then Roman would hear Dean repeat a line until each word for pronounced clearly enough. It was really distracting but Roman couldn't find it in him to mind.

"Mo..ther," Dean was saying and Roman flinched, suddenly on alert as if he was certain Dean was watching something about a mother and her children and realizing it wasn't something he had. "Mother..fu...fucker. Motherfucker!"

Roman nearly fell out of his seat in his hurry to rush out to the living room, Dean blinking up at him in a confused fashion as he tore into the room. Alright, so it wasn't some tearful mother and child reunion on television, it was a comedy. One with lots of curse words.

"What are you watching here?" Roman wasn't sure why he felt scandalized by Dean saying bad words, the guy was at least in his mid-twenties. Maybe it had just been alarming?

"That," Dean pointed at the screen calmly, voice even and matter-of-factly, "that motherfucker."

"Wow, okay," Roman stifled a laugh and searched for the remote, "how about we go outside for a little bit? I'm done with work for the day."

That last part was a lie but Roman couldn't deny Dean outside time when it brought him so much joy. It wasn't easy for Roman to stay focused as it was lately. How could he possibly stay focused?

Twenty minutes later they were out on the beach, Dean picking up everything odd he could find and bringing it to Roman for the name of said item.

"That's a seashell," Roman said from his perch on the ground, the breeze rolling in off the water whipping his hair around until strands had come loose from the bun.

Dean turned the seashell over in his hands and then bent down and placed it on top of his other treasures he had brought back to Roman. So far there was a shiny rock, a twig with dead leaves still attached, a bottle cap, and now a seashell.

"Seashell," Dean totally butchered the word but his expression had been so confident and serious that Roman had to laugh.

"That's right, buddy," Roman assured him and then Dean was off to search for his next specimen.

Three other seashells, a string of seaweed, and a bird feather later, Roman decided the sun was low enough in the sky to round Dean up and head back inside for the evening. On the way to the house he noticed Dean frowning and tugging at the top of the cast, scratching at the skin where the plaster met the arm.

"Don't pull on it too much," Roman reached out and placed a gentle hand over the spot that had been irritating Dean, "you don't have to keep it on very long. Just a few more weeks." Xavier had specified at least 5 weeks, or as long as he could make Dean keep it on. So far it hadn't been too difficult but he knew it had to be annoying.

Dean stopped fussing with the edge of the cast but he didn't look particularly happy about it. Roman sped up his steps with the intention of giving Dean his next dose of pain medication, jogging up the stairs to the house to retrieve the bottle from the kitchen. When he turned around, Dean wasn't behind him.

"Dean?" he called out as he took the bottle from the drawer, "It's time for your pills again."

Still no answer. No footsteps. Nothing. Roman felt his guts twist into knots and he dropped the pills onto to counter and ran to the door, which was still wide open. Dean must not have followed him in.

"Dean?" he called outside, more urgency in his voice as his gaze frantically searched the yard. "Shit!"

Fortunately Roman didn't have to go too much farther to find what he was looking for- Dean on all fours, trying to peer under the porch. He seemed very interested in whatever he was looking at and Roman sighed heavy with relief.

"You scared me," Roman held a hand to his heart, which was rapidly beating beneath his palm, "what are you doing?"

Dean's answer was a cross between a grunt and a whine as he pointed and reached under the porch. Roman's brow furrowed as he leaned down, brushing his loose hairs away from his eyes to see whatever it was that Dean was so anxiously gesturing at.

Staring back at him from under the porch was the shadowy figure of a small kitten. He couldn't make out the color of the fur all the way but it was alone and seemed frightened. Dean strained next to him, trying to awkwardly balance on one side while reaching out with his good arm. Roman laid a calming hand on his back and patted gently.

"That's a kitten," he explained as he settled back onto his knees while Dean's eyes stayed locked on the kitten, "a baby cat. It must be lost or something."

"Kitten," came a quick reply, followed by another whine. Usually that meant Dean wanted something. He would often whine at a snack or some item out of reach that he wanted to touch. Roman was doing what he could to break the habit but it was a slow progression until Dean could learn more English.

"It's really scared right now," Roman attempted to reason with Dean, "why don't we go inside and we can leave some food out here for it? It's probably really hungry too."

Dean was reluctant but eventually Roman got him to go inside as the sun set. Before he started dinner though, he made sure to let Dean put a bowl of torn up lunch meat outside on the porch for the kitten.

While Roman worked on cooking through his mother's famous spaghetti recipe, he would occasionally check on Dean to find him sitting by the window near the door, staring out. The posture was straight and poised, blue eyes rarely even blinking. That kitten really had Dean's attention but Roman figured he hadn't ever seen anything like that before.

Just as Roman turned the heat down on the stove, so he didn't burn the sauce, he heard the door open. Rounding the corner of the kitchen, he could see out of the window just enough to have a view of the top of Dean's head. As he made his way to the door the rest of the scene came into view shortly after.

Dean was sitting on the ground next to the bowl of food, with his lanky legs splayed out in front of him. At first Roman didn't see the kitten at all but soon the tiny figure of the animal began to creep out of the shadows, one cautious step at a time. It's fur had a gray striped pattern and it's underbelly and paws were white, huge green eyes fixed on Dean. Roman didn't move a muscle, only watched as Dean casually picked up a piece of lunch meat and extended it out to the kitten in offering. The kitten, startled by Dean's movements, darted back into the shadows.

This back and forth game continued for a while, with the kitten inching closer each time. Eventually Roman had to return to the kitchen to finish cooking, trusting Dean to stay on the porch.

By the time he had plated the spaghetti and put the forks and drinks out on the table, Roman looked up to find Dean standing in the doorway of the kitchen wearing a huge smile. In his arms was the kitten, seemingly content and still chewing on a large piece of turkey.

"Hey hey, put that back outside," Roman pointed to the door and the smile dropped right off of Dean's face. "Dean, we don't have any supplies for a kitten. I've never even had a cat before."

Dean was doing that thing again when he acted like he didn't hear Roman speaking at all, ignoring the order to put the kitten back outside. Instead he carried it to the kitchen table, nudged one of the chairs out with his foot and placed the kitchen onto it while he sat in the seat next to his new friend, presumably to eat dinner together. Of course the kitten's paws no sooner touched the surface of the chair than it bolted right out of the kitchen, with Dean scrambling to chase it, whining all the while.

Roman stood in the kitchen with his plate of spaghetti in his hands, exhausted, questioning what his life had become. He allowed several moments of self pity before he deposited the plate of delicious dinner, practically begging him to eat it, onto the table and hurried off after Dean and the kitten.

* * *

In all honesty, warmed up spaghetti was just as good as it was freshly served. Roman had convinced himself of that anyway, after spending over and hour searching the house for the kitten with Dean. During that hour he had insisted the kitten be left outside and yeah, they could feed it and Dean could go outside and play with it, but it had to be kept outside.

And yet Roman still found himself piling dirt into a cut up cardboard box to use as a make shift litter box for the night, while Dean sat in the living room with the kitten. The stray had calmed down now, growing more used to the environment and the sound of Dean's coos and gentle touches. Roman didn't have the heart to take the kitten away from him now, not when he was so utterly fascinated with it. If anyone had a reasonable connection to a stray animal, it would be Dean.

Looks like they got a new kitten. Roman rolled his eyes as he put the litter box down in the corner of the living room and left the two to bond while the television played some old romance flick in the background. The kitchen still needed to be cleaned and part of him wanted to abandon the task for the night but he knew that something new would come up in the morning and he wouldn't get to it. That tended to happen now that Dean was around.

With the leftovers stored in the fridge and the dirty dishes in the sink, Roman scrubbed his hands over his eyes. His energy was drained, he hadn't had to work this hard for a long time now. Of course he had never been in a situation quite like this either. He could hear the movie playing in the other room as he stood there, hands still over his eyes, leaning heavily back against the counter.

"Thank you for dinner," a faint male voice on the television echoed, followed by a swell in sappy instrumental music. Roman had never really been one for romance stories, they were too far off from reality. Shit like that didn't actually happen outside of Hollywood.

 _Alright Ro, let's do this_ , he gave himself a pep talk inside his head, _just finish the dishes and you can climb into bed._

"Right," he murmured to himself aloud and dropped his hands from his face, only to find himself almost face to face with Dean. He was startled by it but he had learned that it wasn't uncommon for Dean to sneak up on him, most of the time without making a sound. "Scared me. Ready for bed?"

But Dean was looking at him in a way Roman hadn't notice before. His features were relaxed and soft, his blue eyes were warm and searching Roman's own before they lowered and settled on his mouth. Roman felt something very similar to butterflies in his belly in that moment.

Before he could do or say a thing, Dean was stepping closer and their lips met. It was slightly awkward, a little uncoordinated, but boy did it make Roman go warm all over. It was over too soon but Dean's hand touched his cheek tenderly.

"Thank you for dinner," he said, sounding out each word carefully. The whole gesture was so genuine and the look in Dean's eyes was so pure that Roman wasn't sure what to say. How in the hell did Dean know what a kiss was?

"You're welcome."

It took him a few more minutes, after Dean had smiled so sweet at him and retreated back into the living room, to realize that the line had been from that romance movie. Dean must have seen the characters kiss on television, must have heard the lead male speak that line, and thought to mimic it all to show his gratitude. Roman shook his head, unable to wipe the smile off his lips as he finished cleaning the kitchen with a new bounce in his step.

He couldn't allow himself to grow so attracted to Dean. It was a simple kiss, something that Dean saw on tv, not a big deal at all. Dean couldn't have understood the meaning behind it. But what was the harm in finding some joy in it? Hell, it was the most action Roman had gotten in a long while.

Leaving the dishes to dry in the sink, Roman passed through the living room and turned off the television on the way.

"Time for bed," he said and Dean didn't argue, only climbed to his feet to follow Roman into the bedroom. Luckily the kitten stayed behind to nap on the pillow turned sofa cushion. "Brush your teeth and then it's lights out."

Roman finished brushing his own teeth and left Dean behind in the bathroom to finish up, stripping down to his boxer briefs. The bed sheets felt like heaven against his skin and the mattress cupped his tired body like it had been waiting all day to do so. He fought to keep his gray eyes open long enough to wait for Dean to get into his den for the night, but it felt nearly impossible.

What also felt impossible was the dip in the bed next to him. Dean hadn't even touched Roman's bed, not even to sit on it, and Dean always slept in the den on the floor. But Roman opened his eyes to confirm that Dean had in fact climbed into bed with him and was making himself cozy. There was a look of wonderment in Dean's eyes, Roman could barely make it out in the dim light from the lamp on the nightstand. The bed probably felt pretty damn good after years of sleeping on cushions on the cold ground.

Dean turned and shifted for a couple of minutes and then went still, curled into the sheets and plush pillows next to Roman's body. Not quite close enough to touch but just having Dean nearby had his heart hammering in his chest.

"Goodnight, Dean," he spoke as he turned the lamp off, leaving them in darkness.

"Goodnight, Roman," Dean answered quietly, voice lazy with sleep, and Roman wasn't sure he had ever fallen asleep so quickly and comfortably before.

The following morning, as the light broke in through the half closed blinds across the room, Roman woke to the feeling of a warm body pressed against him. Dean was sleeping peacefully, shaggy hair in his eyes, his body curved into Roman's, his back to Roman's front. Right above Dean's head, sleeping in a fuzzy ball on the pillow, was the now not-so-stray kitten.

Roman was positive that he could get used to waking up like this.


	8. Honest Eyes

"So Xavier said that your kitten is a female," Roman reminded Dean after arriving back home from the trip to the vet, "are you still going to keep that name?"

"Yep," Dean spoke up from his spot on the couch where he was flipping through a magazine Roman had given him, mostly for the photography. He couldn't read a single word on the pages but he was acting like he could and Roman tried not to smile too wide at that.

"So you're just going to leave her named John Wayne?" Dean nodded at the question, barely glancing up from his reading material in a dismissive manner, as if that was the most ridiculous notion he had heard. And just 'John' didn't cut it either, not for Dean, it had to be the full name.

Ever since Roman had left the television on a certain station that showed older films, Dean had been obsessed with the westerns that played during the day. He loved the horses and adventure and the way the cowboys looked, he had even taken to wearing things from around the house on his head like a cowboy hat. Today it was a box Sami had brought over earlier that had contained some fresh flowers to place around the house, as a gift and to check up on the two of them. It still smelled pretty strongly of exotic flora but Dean didn't seem to mind. Neither did John Wayne, who was perched on Dean's shoulder, pawing at the edge of the box curiously.

Two weeks had passed since the first night Dean had crawled into bed with Roman and he had returned to the bed every single night. Roman knew that in the short amount of time, he was in deep trouble. Not because he knew he wasn't going to get his full bed back so he could spread out and sleep like an over sized starfish, no, quite the opposite. He wanted Dean there, wanted to feel him close, wanted to wake up and find him splayed out next to him on the mattress. Roman wanted to be able to monitor the nightmares, which were becoming less and less frequent. Instead of waking to the sight of Dean curled into a ball on top of the blankets, wearing a tight and fearful expression, he would find Dean relaxed and enjoying his trip to dreamland.

"Are you and John Wayne cool here while I go finish up some work?" Roman knew his father would be calling at some point and he wanted to be able to answer questions to prove he was actually doing his job.

"Yep," Dean answered again and Roman snickered as he walked past, reaching over the back of the couch to ruffle up the mess of light brown hair.

"Is that the only word you know today or something?"

"Yep."

Roman rolled his eyes in good humor as he strolled down the hall toward the office. Dean's vocabulary was growing rapidly and while it was still basic and very simple, he seemed to be a fast learner. Sure, a lot of it was thanks to the television he watched, which included several bad words he had picked up- but it was working nonetheless. And on top of that, he was opening up and growing more confident which each passing day. All good signs, as far as Roman was concerned.

With a heavy sigh, Roman sat in the expensive leather desk chair and opened his laptop. There were plenty of new emails in his inbox to go through and he cringed at the sight of them before clicking out of the window and pulling up a document he had been skimming last night before bed. To the side of the laptop, his phone buzzed. Fully expecting his father, he was surprised to find Seth's name pop up instead.

Allowing himself to become distracted for the moment, he picked up the phone and swiped the screen to open the text message. It was something about Sami having a day off tomorrow, wanting to know if Roman wanted to get out of the house. He knew he had been basically house ridden for the duration of the last two weeks, aside from short trips to the vet, but leaving the house meant he had to bring Dean along. The mere idea of that made him nervous and unsure. It wasn't that he didn't trust Dean, it was just so up in the air. Anything could happen.

Without answering the text, Roman opened his image gallery and went through his most recent photos. Immediately he was smiling fondly at the screen as photos of Dean were staring back at him. A series of pictures of him reaching for the camera, expressions spanning from confused to interested and then to joy. They had been sitting up in bed a couple nights prior and Roman had opened his camera up to snap some pictures of Dean, realizing that he probably had never really seen a photo of himself. Fully amused by the entire concept, Dean demanded more and more. So they had spent nearly an hour taking ridiculous photos of themselves, the last one capturing a moment where Dean kissed Roman on the side of the face.

Affection was something that Dean seemed to enjoy and willingly display toward him. They were small gestures still, like nestling up to him while watching a moving on the couch, nuzzling before bed as they got cozy, and the occasional kiss. Usually the kisses fell on his cheeks or forehead but every now and then he would get lucky enough to receive one right on the lips. He still wasn't sure if Dean knew what it all meant or if it was something that was natural and felt good, but Roman certainly hadn't tried to put an end to it.

His phone buzzed again, snapping him out of his daydream. This time it was his father.

Instead of answering he placed the phone aside and let the call go to voicemail, frowning at his computer screen. Distractions were something he really couldn't afford right now and yet there were a wide range of them readily available. Being stuck at home all this time had him on edge, maybe getting out really would be for the best.

Burying himself back into his work, determined to at least finish the document he was working on, Roman buckled down and resisted distraction. Which was all fine and dandy until he was certain one of the words he skimmed over read Molossian. He had backpedaled quickly, reading through the lines of text in an attempt to locate the word but he found nothing. His mind was playing tricks on him, utterly exhausted from what he had put it through lately.

"C'mon Ro," he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, "get your shit together."

Why hadn't anything happened?

Where was Hunter? Why hadn't the police shown up at his doorstep with a missing persons report? Why had he heard virtually nothing from The Molossian after what they had done?

This had been driving him up the wall. Of course he was very relieved and happy that he hadn't opened the front door to find Hunter standing there with a gun pointed in his face and a team of lackeys to capture Dean, to take him back to that hell hole. But he also couldn't shake this paranoia. He couldn't help but feel like there was a storm brewing on the horizon, no matter how calm it felt now.

From the other room he could hear Dean speaking with John Wayne, which wasn't at all out of the ordinary, though the kitten surely couldn't speak back. It didn't seem to stop Dean from rambling on about nonsense.

Maybe Roman needed a break. Grabbing his phone off the desk, he abandoned his work yet again for the comfort of his housemate and the tiny striped cat. He found the two of them in the kitchen, John Wayne hanging slightly off kilter in Dean's healing arm, claws dug into the plaster of the cast. Dean was reaching for a box on the top shelf of a cupboard.

"Hungry?" Dean was startled by Roman's voice and nearly dropped the box he was retrieving, wide blue eyes turning on him, "Sorry, didn't mean to sneak up on you."

"S'okay," Dean blended the words together and put the box on the counter top, plopping John Wayne next to it. While they snacked on pieces of cereal, with Roman replacing the kitten's share with kibble instead of sugary wheat puffs, Dean studied the scribbles and drawings on his cast.

It had been covered by now, either by Dean's own hand or everyone else's. Seth, Sami, Xavier, Becky, they had all left their names and marks in an array of color during their visits. It was much better than the bland color and it seemed to keep Dean from trying to pry it off every other hour. If he started to mess with it, Roman would bring out the markers and they would add some more decoration to it. They were quickly running out of empty space but it shouldn't be too much longer before it could be removed.

"How about we get you in the bath and then we can have some real dinner?" Roman suggested, taking the make-shift cowboy hat from Dean's head, knowing that he had a fifty-fifty chance of getting him to cooperate with bath time. "I'll let you pick the movie tonight."

Roman almost always let Dean pick the movie but it also always worked like a charm. This occasion was no exception.

* * *

An hour later Roman was handing Dean a pair of soft pajama pants and a t-shirt to change into and the collar still wrapped around Dean's neck caught his attention. It was always there, hadn't once been removed, but for some reason he always noticed it more easily when Dean was naked.

"Want this off?" he asked, as he did every time Dean was changing into new clothes, but every time he got the same response. Dean would kind of tense up and his brow would furrow and he would appear to be very hesitant about it. But he would always shake his head and move on with whatever he was doing.

Roman wasn't sure what the hold up was about the collar. Had Dean never been without it? Was it some sort of comfort blanket for him, even if it was a symbol of his life before? Whatever the reason, Roman had made it a point to avoid getting a collar for the kitten until he could get it figured out. If it was a sensitive subject, he wasn't sure he had the energy at the moment for any kind of relapse.

"Alright, let's eat and we can watch a movie," and just like that Dean's expression was bright and joyful and he darted from the room, calling out for John Wayne.

Dinner was uneventful; peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with a lot of napkins because Dean liked to get his hands sticky and touch everything. Now they were propped up on the couch watching a film that Dean had chosen. They had seen it plenty of times before and Dean whispered some of the lines along with the actors during his favorite parts. Roman didn't mind watching the same movie over and over again, not when it pleased Dean so much.

"What place?" Dean asked, pointing at the screen as the scene changed to a big city.

"I think that's New York," Roman answered, shifting to allow Dean to lean back into him so he could wrap an arm around Dean's mid section.

"New York," Dean repeated, nodding as he stared at the television with interest, "Go there?"

"I'd take you there if I could but it's on the other side of the country."

Dean glanced at Roman, more upset by this news than Roman had expected, and then his gaze returned to the movie. There was a look of longing in Dean's eyes but it was gone as soon as it came, replaced by laughter as one of their favorite scenes played out.

After the movie Roman had sent Dean off to brush his teeth, the wheels in his mind turning. A day out of the house was definitely what he needed but he couldn't leave Dean behind. And he had a plan. Grabbing his phone, he shot off a text to Seth.

 _How about you and Sami and I take Dean into the city?_

As expected, Roman received a text back from Seth immediately.

 _Uh, are u sure that's a good idea?_

 _Trust me, he's going to love it. But I need you both there to help me. You in?_

There was a bigger gap in time between messages now so Roman took the chance to get ready for bed himself. Right before he laid down he found a message waiting.

 _We're in. See u in the morning._

* * *

"Remember to keep all of your clothes on today, okay?" Seth was just making sure that point was understood as Roman pulled the vehicle carrying the four men into a huge parking lot near Fisherman's Wharf.

Sami laughed and Roman rolled his eyes but couldn't fight off the smile that curved his mouth as he glanced at Dean in the passenger's seat. Dean hadn't taken notice to Seth's comment at all, instead he was practically glued to the window as he stared out at all of the different sights. Roman could only imagine what it must be like, seeing most of these things for the first time.

"Ocean." Dean tapped the window matter-of-factly, nodding in confidence as he pointed out the bay.

"That's right, buddy! That's the Pacific Ocean," Sami chimed in to give a little extra information as the car rolled to a stop in a parking space and the engine died, "it's really, really, really big."

Dean's eyes narrowed as if he were committing this new fact into his memory, repeating the name of the ocean in a badly pronounced whisper. Roman patted him on the thigh and with that the four men began their journey around the city.

San Francisco was a melting pot of cultures on the West Coast and there was plenty to see. Roman had been reminding Dean of all of the rules on the drive down, trying to ensure that he knew how to conduct himself like a proper human. At least enough to pass.

"Remember what I told you about running away," Roman rounded the car to fall into step next to Dean, "we're all going to look out for you but please stay with one of us at all times. If you wander off you might get lost."

Just as a back up, Roman had slipped an extra phone into Dean's backpack he carried along with him. It held some items that Dean liked to have with him, as well as some snacks that he had been very concerned about bringing along. He seemed to think there wouldn't be enough food where they were going, no matter how much Roman assured him that there would be an abundance of it. Teaching Dean how to answer that phone, however, had been an interesting couple of hours all on it's own but finally he was sure that Dean would know what to do if it began to ring.

"Yes," Dean nodded his understanding of the warnings to stay together, but almost immediately he spotted something that captured his attention and more or less ran in that direction.

Seth exchanged knowing looks with Roman and Sami was already hurrying along after Dean. This was going to be an interesting day.

What happened to catch Dean's attention brought a grin to Roman's face right away- a street performer all painted up in chrome, standing on a platform motionless. He looked like a robot but the sun was glinting off all the paint and Dean was curiously inspecting the situation, having always been drawn to shiny items.

Then the man moved, with a whirring buzz of a whistle hidden in his mouth, and Dean nearly jumped out of his skin.

Seth burst into laughter as Dean toppled back and Roman caught him by the arm to keep him steady, trying to suppress his own laughter. With what must be instinct, Dean bared his teeth at the performer and Roman was quick to gently chide him.

"None of that," he murmured so only the two of them could hear, "he's a nice man. He's doing this to make money." Just as he said that, a couple of people walked by and dropped some bills into the robot man's tip jar.

Dean, while still seeming extremely put off by the man, visibly relaxed. When they left the area they had to make a wide circle around the performer or Dean wouldn't take another step. Seth continued to poke fun at him the whole time while Sami assured Dean that 'surprise robot men' were indeed kinda creepy.

Food was first on their to-do list since lunch time was rapidly approaching and they opted to avoid the restaurant scenario for now, choosing to explore the row of street vendors. There was a lot of fresh seafood and chowders, so many new foods to try, but Dean insisted on french fries above all else. Noisy seagulls appreciated this choice and would dare to swoop close enough to earn a flash of teeth and a sharp growl from Dean, which in turn earned a scolding from Roman.

The streets were lined with souvenir stores and local shops so while they ate their food they strolled down the pavement to see if any of them tickled their fancy. Dean was pointing out almost every new thing he encountered while Sami patiently named off each item. Thirty minutes past noon, Roman's phone began to ring. His father's name popped up on the caller ID, glaring up at him as if it knew he had been avoiding his responsibilities. Swiping to ignore the call, Roman tucked his phone deeper into his pocket and tried to forget all about it.

Luckily, that was easy to do when he spotted Seth and Dean in the mouth of one of the tourist stores. Seth had been putting different styles of sunglasses on Dean, who seemed a little confused but also intrigued by them. He could slide them off and turn them over, looking at the lens, only to peer back through them. Seth was overly amused, pushing a pair of obnoxious, brightly colored sunglasses onto Dean's face. One side was a pineapple and the other side was some kind of tropical drink, with the lenses built into each. Dean was swatting them off his face as soon as they were put into place.

"Aw c'mon, you didn't like those?" Seth teased and Dean's tongue poked out in disgust.

"What about these?" Sami held up a simple pair of black wayfarers and Dean held still while they were slid into place. Sami turned him toward the mirror on the display so he could see himself and Dean hummed his approval.

"Like those?" Roman questioned and Dean nodded, but Seth had other ideas.

"Nah, he wants these!" Pulling the black ones away, Seth replaced them with a pair of bright pink ones of the same style.

Now Dean was really showing his approval, bouncing on the balls of his feet and gesturing to them.

"Want," he turned toward Roman, who simply nodded and reached out to take them so they could be paid for at the counter. Seth was looking especially pleased with himself and Roman rolled his eyes as he passed by, the corner of his mouth pulled upward into a smirk.

"It's okay Dean, a lot of guys like pink," Sami was rambling on as Roman moved out of earshot long enough to pay for the sunglasses.

The next street performer they happened to come across was a magician putting on a show for a small group of tourists. They stood around, with Dean standing in front of them to have a better view of the performance, but Roman ended up watching him a lot more than any of the tricks. The curiosity, the confusion and surprise, the complete wonderment, every expression was better than the last. When Dean would whip around to look at him, eyes like saucers behind the glasses and mouth dropped open in awe, Roman wished he could snap a few dozen photos.

Roman found himself wishing such things quite often now.

With the Wharf marked off their checklist, and Dean spending the next half hour asking how the magician performed all that magic, the group decided to head toward Pier 39. Roman had only been there once before but he knew Dean would get a kick out of one of the pier's star attractions.

The sea lions could be heard before seen and Dean's brow had furrowed in caution at the ruckus, even as Roman nudged him along.

"You'll like this, I promise," he laughed and dragged Dean the remainder of the way to the railing on the pier.

Floating a few feet away were some larger platforms covered in sea lions. They were a noisy bunch but once they were able to get Dean up to the rail to see the creatures, the mood shifted. Dean was delighted. Pointing out the sea lions in joyful disbelief, as if the other three hadn't spotted them yet, he laughed.

Roman reckoned they were kind of silly looking but Dean crossed his arms on the railing and rested his chin on top, simply content to watch the sea creatures yell at each other and laze about. Every now and then one would slither off into the water and reappear moments later, bobbing about on the surface. For a moment Roman wasn't sure they would be able to pry Dean away from that area at all, but his fascination with the sea lions gave Roman an idea.

The Aquarium of the Bay wasn't as packed as Roman had expected, thankfully, leaving room for Dean and him to roam around the exhibits freely. Seth and Sami decided to sit this one out, instead doing a little shopping and searching for a restaurant for dinner. That was fine with Roman because a bit of alone time with Dean is exactly what he had been craving all day.

"You'll be able to see better if you take this off," he remarked warmly, pulling the shades free of Dean's eyes to tuck them safely away in the front pouch of the backpack.

"Thank you," Dean smiled and Roman felt his stomach doing those flip flops again as he led the way through the lobby of the building to the first exhibit room.

Losing track of how many goddamn adorable expressions Dean could make with each new discovery, Roman would explain each animal to the best of his knowledge. He read from plaques, he helped point out the different species of creature in each tank, he even took his phone out to steal a few photos of the moment.

There wasn't a worry in the world when he was with Dean like this, and as much as that may become a serious issue, for now he was more than happy to simply live in it.

As they approached the underwater tunnel, Roman made sure to pull Dean closer to him, not sure how he would react to the wide variety of sea life all around them. At first Dean did cower closer, overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of the aquarium around the tunnel, but it didn't take long for him to perk up.

"Shark," Dean pointed out one of the sharks gliding gracefully overhead and Roman nodded, giving him a pat of approval on the shoulder, resisting the urge to close to space between them and wrap his arm around him.

There were a few other people in the tunnel with them but one couple in particular was in their line of sight, standing in front of them with the backdrop of the artificial ocean. It looked like something out of a movie honestly, the two of them holding hands and watching each animal swim by the thick glass. Dean was watching them too, maybe a little too much for a moment, but when he felt Dean's hand pulling at his own he realized why.

Dean pressed the palm of his good hand into Roman's and clumsily tangled their fingers together, much like the couple. Surprised by the gesture, Roman glanced over to find that Dean's attention had already moved on to a school of brightly colored fish zipping along, still holding Roman's hand.

Roman didn't let go until they were exiting the building to meet up with Sami and Seth, having been entirely distracted during the rest of their time inside. All he could think about was the fact that Dean had held his hand and how weak he had felt in the knees.

What the hell was wrong with him? He had to pull himself together before this entire thing was entirely derailed.

Dean insisted they say goodbye to the sea lions, trying to excitedly tell Sami and Seth all about what he had seen in the aquarium with the limited vocabulary he had. He was able to list off the mostly correct names of all of the sea creatures he had seen, with minimal help from Roman.

"That's so cool, I love sea horses," Sami was grinning ear to ear as Dean continued on, while Seth hung back to walk with Roman.

"I'm surprised he's behaved as well as he has," Seth confessed, making sure Dean wouldn't be able to hear him, "you must really be making headway with him."

Roman nodded, lost in his own head, and Seth took that as a cue to just let it go for now. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky and the day's worth of exploring was beginning to make their stomachs grumble.

Sami brought up the restaurant they had found, one that had a variety of food to choose from, and they began to head that way. It was only a few blocks back in the direction they had come from, closer to their car, and the whole time Roman was zoned out.

This couldn't happen. He couldn't get this attached. Sure, he could help Dean find a new life, get him some help, eventually get him a job. But then what? Was he supposed to just let Dean mosey out of his life? Was he supposed to find someone to take Dean off his hands? A woman to start a life with? The idea made his skin crawl. That probably wasn't a great sign.

"Hey," Seth murmured sharply, elbowing him in the side to pull him back to reality.

"Hm?" Roman looked up quickly, following Seth's gaze to where Dean had frozen at the curb, staring hard. Across the street were a pair of large dogs, collars and leashes in place as their owners pulled and tugged to set the animals on the desired course. Dean was watching them with great interest but his expression wasn't as it had been with the sea lions or the sharks. It was sharp, calculating. Roman decided he wasn't fond of this expression at all.

Sami shifted awkwardly next to Dean, looking back to Roman for help as Dean's hand raised to touch the collar that still encircled his own neck. Before Roman could say or do anything at all, Dean turned and looked at him dead in the eyes.

"Like me?" he asked and this time he didn't have to point out what the subject of his question was. Roman's heart took a plunge but he cleared his throat and reached out to take Dean's hand, lowering it away from the collar.

"No," Roman tried to work out the storm in those blue eyes but he couldn't begin to guess how to navigate it, "not like you."

Dean's eyes narrowed in thought, for Roman it felt like time stood still. There was so much human in those eyes now, so much more than was there before, but every so often there was a glimpse of something he wouldn't be able to understand. He accepted the answer, but Roman could tell it was all on the surface. People began to move around them, pushing past to cross the street now that the signal to walk had lit up on the post. The overall feel of the group had definitely shifted.

Fuck. He didn't know what was going through Dean's head right then but he could bet that it probably wasn't very good.

"We better hurry or they might give away all the food before we get there," Seth came to the rescue with a big smile plastered on his face and Sami was quick to join in.

"They better not sell all of the cheeseburgers."

Roman smiled at Dean and they continued on their way, Dean more quiet and withdrawn than before. They all noticed it but no one said anything, sensing it was best to just act like everything was alright. Sami and Seth struck up a conversation and Roman could see Dean touching the collar against out of the corner of his eye.

There was a short wait at the restaurant once they arrived and Seth went to put their name on the list. Dean still hadn't said a word and Sami was doing his best to keep up the cheery atmosphere. Later Roman was going to have to thank their friend for today, Sami was amazing with Dean, as he had been since the beginning.

Roman felt a tug at his arm as he watched for Seth, turning to find Dean walking toward the nearest store.

"Shit, hang on," Roman told Sami and was quick to follow after Dean, catching up as soon as they entered the shop. "What are you doing?"

Dean said nothing, searching the aisles until the spinning towers covered with jewelry came into sight. There were necklaces and bracelets of all types, geared toward both males and females, and Dean was studying each one.

"Do you want one of these?" Roman tried again but Dean kept searching until finally he pulled out a simple silver chain. It wasn't long, the type to fit closer to the throat, but it wasn't as tight as the collar. "You like this?"

Dean pulled at the collar on his neck and Roman realized that the time had finally come- Dean was ready to remove the one physical piece of evidence that still tied him to the Molossian. And to replace it with something more human.

"Yeah, okay," Roman smiled, "let's pay for this and I'll help you with that."

Five minutes later, with a pair of scissors borrowed from behind the register, Roman was cutting through the thick leather of the collar. It took a bit to work the blades through the material but once it was mostly sliced through, Roman used his strength to break through the rest of it. The collar snapped off and Dean immediately reached for his throat, feeling around for the strap that was no longer there.

It must have been strange to be free of something that had been part of him for so very long, something that would have weighed far more than just a simple band of leather. Dean seemed both relieved and unsure, patting the side of his throat anxiously. Roman brought the new chain necklace up and secured it around Dean's neck, allowing it to settle into place against his skin. Dean touched it, fingering the chain links, before he looked up at Roman.

And he smiled. A real smile this time. Roman returned the scissors, tucked the collar into his pocket, and they left the shop to meet up with Sami and Seth once again.

* * *

Eating dinner out with Dean for the first time went about as well as they could have expected, with only a few hiccups. Aside from trying to wear the fold-open menu on his head like a cowboy hat, much like he did at home, Roman only had to remind him a handful of times not to eat with his hands. Or to blow bubbles in his soda through the straw like he saw on a cartoon last week. Or to stare at other tables while people ate.

In fact there was only one moment where Roman had to really jump in, if only to save Sami from turning a shade of red he hadn't seen before.

"What can I get you gentlemen to drink?" the waitress had asked.

In which to Dean replied, all bright eyes and joyful tone, "Fuck!"

Sami about melted into his seat and Seth choked on a piece of complimentary bread to keep from laughing. The waitress acted as if perhaps she had heard him incorrectly.

"Oh, uh," Roman had spoke up quickly, "he'll have Pepsi."

He decided to order for Dean for the remainder of their dining experience.

As they exited the restaurant later with full bellies and satisfied smiles, Roman noticed the thick fog was rolling in from the bay into the city. It might had been alarming for someone who wasn't familiar with the area but to the small group of men, it was something to see. Dean was apprehensive at first, pointing it out to Roman, standing close.

"Fog," Roman placed a hand on the small of Dean's back, "it's harmless. It happens all the time here."

"Fog," Dean repeated, "like frog."

"Yeah, kinda," Roman chuckled, leading them closer to the edge of the bay to get a better view of the white blanket draping over parts of the water and bay, the famous bridge already completely swallowed by it.

It was peaceful, Dean felt more calm at his side than he had been all day, and Roman found his eyes drawn to him. Dean's profile was accented by the nearly set sun and gorgeous backdrop. The bold reds and oranges in the sky were dripping lower, making way for deeper purples and blues. Stars were out over their heads, beginning to sparkle and shine as the light died around them.

None of this was as beautiful as Dean in that moment. He was staring, he knew he was, but he hadn't realized he was also being watched.

Locking eyes with Seth, Roman's brow raised in question. Why was Seth staring at him that way? Whatever.

Moving forward, he pulled Dean along with him to the edge of the small cliff overlooking the ocean. Behind them the city soldiered on, sounds and smells muted by the sea's breeze. It ruffled up Dean's hair and Roman reached up to soothe the strands back.

"Here," his voice was soft and reserved for just the two of them as he pulled the collar from his pocket, "get rid of it for good."

Dean stared at it for a long moment before he took it from Roman's hand and inched closer to the edge. Roman stood his ground and watched, knowing this was something Dean could do all on his own. Something Dean needed to do all on his own.

After ghosting his fingertips over the strap, Dean raised the collar up in his fisted hand and threw it with all of his might into the ocean. He stared after it, silent, and eventually turned around to take his spot at Roman's side.

"Let's go home," Roman smiled, ignoring the look Seth gave him as they made their way past and in the direction of the parking lot.

With some sightseeing left to do in the morning, they decided to stay in one of the family's up scale hotels downtown. The ride was silent with Sami dozing off in the backseat, head resting on Seth's shoulder. It had been a long day and Roman was looking forward to nothing more than unwinding with Dean and getting a good night's sleep.

Seth had other plans though because once they made it to the hotel, he pulled Roman aside while Dean and an exhausted Sami went to look at the decorative fountain in the lobby.

"Hey...is everything okay with you and Dean?" Seth asked, voice hushed enough to not be overheard, but the concern was obvious.

"Yeah, of course," Roman answered, confused, "why do you ask?"

Seth shifted his weight from one foot to the other, sighing as he glanced back to make sure the other two were still distracted.

"You seem like you're getting a little...too attached."

"What?" Roman's eyes narrowed and immediately he was on defense, even though he knew Seth didn't mean any harm. The subject was something that made him bristle all over, in a way that surprised even him.

"I mean, are you guys like..." Seth didn't finish the sentence but his expression shifted enough for Roman to catch the drift.

"Why is that any of your business?"

"Are you serious, Ro? I'm your best fucking friend, I've been here for you through this whole thing," Seth was growing frustrated, Roman could see it but he couldn't find it in him to extinguish these fires just yet, "C'mon, man...you know you can't do that. Not with him. He's just..."

"He's what?" Roman asked, challenge oozing from his words.

Seth stared him in the eyes, weighing his options, and finally sighed.

"Whatever, Roman," he shrugged and pushed by the taller man, "I'm just worried."

Roman stayed put and let Seth go to the front desk to retrieve the keys to their suites. One was wordlessly shoved into his hand as his friend returned and they went their separate ways, Seth with Sami in tow.

They took different elevators up to their floors and Roman tried to shake off the bad mood Seth had left him in. He couldn't help but feel like there might be some true weight to his best friend's warning.

"Wow!" Dean gasped as they entered the suite. There was a huge window directly in front of them that overlooked the city, with all it's buildings and bright lights.

"Pretty neat, huh?" Roman forced a smile and locked the door up behind him, "Uh...I think I'm gonna take a hot shower."

"Me too?" Dean asked, turning away from the window to look at Roman hopefully.

Roman hadn't showered with Dean before. Sure he had been there to help Dean bathe at the beginning but he had become pretty self efficient in that department.

"Sure," the answer came before Roman was ready to give it but the way Dean's eyes lit up crushed any hopes of backtracking on that answer. But that was fine, how hard could it be?

Roman got his answer ten minutes later as he watched Dean step into the spacious shower next to him, leaning into the steady stream of warm water. It cascaded down his body, over the pale skin that was now void of any bruises or cuts. The scars were still there of course, but Roman had grown to find those just as beautiful as the rest of Dean.

The plastered arm was wrapped in a plastic bag to keep the water off of it, and while they should have taken away from the overall vibe, it somehow only added to it. Everything about Dean was charming to Roman.

Making quick work of the shower, Roman didn't allow himself to be too terribly distracted by how perfect Dean looked. He washed Dean's hair, then his own, scrubbing both of their bodies down with a bar of hotel soap. He'd had to steer clear of some of the more private areas, passing the soap off to Dean to reach them instead, but it didn't stop him from taking a peek or five. Or ten.

With Dean wrapped in a big fluffy towel and sent off to the bedroom, Roman took a moment for himself in the bathroom. Seth's words were gnawing their way back into his brain and he could really do without that for the rest of the night. He knew Seth was worried. Not because Dean was a male, that had nothing to do with it, Seth wasn't like that. But Roman knew there was plenty of reason for his friend to express concern.

"You're fine," he told his reflection, "this is fine."

On his way to bed he checked his phone to find five more missed calls from his father. He made a mental note to return those calls first thing in the morning and put his phone aside. Nothing had been left from Seth. Not a text to apologize, nothing at all.

Dean was already curled up in bed by the time Roman got there. The towel was abandoned on the floor, along with the plastic bag, leaving Dean totally nude. As Roman dropped his towel as well and climbed onto the mattress to settle in, Dean rolled and tucked himself into his side. He was warm and soft and smelled like soap. Roman's hand pressed against his back and he began to rub slowly, turning himself onto his side to face Dean.

"Sleepy?" he murmured against Dean's ear.

"Mmhmm," came the half muffled reply.

"We had a busy day, we should get some rest."

That was a great idea for about twenty minutes, until Dean rolled his body onto his side with his back pressed against Roman's front. His cast was drawn up to his middle, safely out of the way.

Roman nuzzled into the mess of brown hair, allowing an arm to rest and drape around Dean's small waist. That must have pleased him because his head tilted back against Roman's shoulder with a soft sigh and his body arched just enough to add pressure in all the placed Roman didn't need to focus on. Like Dean's ass nestling into his crotch.

"Dean, I'm a little warm," Roman tried to reason, tried to reluctantly put a little more space between them. Dean's only answered was more contact.

Fuck.

Roman's hand pressed to Dean's stomach, fingers splaying out wide. It felt like his palm could nearly cover the entire expanse of the flat belly. Whatever muscle had been there before had mostly faded from lack of exercise but it left behind a smooth, soft stretch of skin that drove Roman a little crazy. He wanted to touch it, kiss it, claim every inch of it. Every inch of Dean.

Had anyone else touched Dean this way? It wouldn't surprise him. In fact it would surprise him to find out that they hadn't. The very thought of it made his grip on Dean's body tighten and Roman pulled him in closer.

A soft noise left Dean's mouth in response and said noise went straight to Roman's groin. This wasn't the time to get aroused but he was doing nothing to stop it. He had been so good, he had been so strict with himself when it came to this. Good touches only, nothing that would provoke less than pure thoughts.

But Dean felt so damn good, those hips were shifting just right and Roman knew there wasn't much to hide the fact that he was steadily becoming more turned on.

"Dean," he whispered, voice thick with desire, "stay still..." It was a last ditch effort, some kind of swan song, because he knew what would happen if he crossed this line.

Dean tilted his head and nuzzled into Roman's neck, body arched again to achieve that position. Pressure was applied in all the right places and Roman huffed a heavy breath against Dean's hair. His hand moved to cup the jut of Dean's hip, easing his lower half back to meet his own. They were flush against each other now and the tension in the room was suffocating.

Roman's hips rolled forward slowly and Dean tensed up, going stiff, and he stopped in a panic. Did he push things too far? Too fast? Maybe Dean didn't want this at all?

Then Dean's hand was moving, dipping down, and Roman had to open his eyes. As they adjusted to the minimal light in the room, he could barely make out the shadow of Dean's hand between his legs. Was he aroused too?

A soft whine left him and his hips shifted again, slower this time, more unsure. Roman had no idea where to take this but his body was aching, on fire, fog of lust evading his brain like the fog on bay. So his hand began to inch along Dean's hip and thigh until he was able to confirm that Dean was indeed touching himself.

Roman swallowed thickly and nudged Dean's hand aside, who didn't fight the gesture but was still very tense against his own body. As his hand came into contact with Dean's arousal, he found that he wasn't the only one worked up by their extreme closeness.

Another noise left Dean's lips and Roman's mouth found the side of his neck, peppering it with kisses. His palm pressed to the underside of Dean's length and his fingers wrapped around, giving one experimental stroke.

Dean's breath hitched in his throat and his hips bucked forward. If Dean had been touched like this before, Roman wasn't sure it had been often. Dean was responding as if these were all new sensations. That only made him want to push on further.

His hand tightened and he continued slow strokes, each reaction he pulled from Dean was more enthralling than the last. Dean was panting now, soft puffs of breath mixed with whimpers and gasps, even a growl or two. His hips were moving, not as jerky as before but more fluid and in time with Roman's hand.

"Feel good?" Roman asked against the top of Dean's shoulder, his own length rubbing up against Dean's ass from behind.

He didn't get a direct answer but he didn't need one. There might have been a nod but Dean's hand had his attention, where it was wrapping around his own in an attempt to make him move it faster. Roman did just that and Dean's hips fell into a faster, more desperate rhythm.

When Dean came his hips swiveled back against Roman's and his hand grabbed for the sheets at his side, clinging to them tightly. Roman continued to stroke him through the entirety of the orgasm, leaving Dean a panting mess of loose limbs. He was pretty sure he had come of his hand, there was probably some on Dean's stomach and the bed as well.

Ignoring his own aching arousal, he turned to reach for his towel where it had dropped in the floor at the beside when he felt Dean's hand blindly reaching back for him. It didn't take him long to find his target and Roman's whole world went fuzzy around the edges as Dean's hand began to move over him.

Reaching to stop Dean's hand, he rolled onto his back and carefully but easily pulled Dean's body up until he was straddling Roman's thighs. Then he simply guided Dean's hand back to his length.

"Wanna watch you," was the only explanation Roman gave but Dean didn't seem to mind the change, instead becoming rather fascinated with touching Roman as well.

It was a bit clumsy and uncoordinated but once Dean got the hang of jerking him off, it took everything Roman had to make it last longer than a few moments. There was so much about the situation that he wanted to remember, from the way Dean's thighs looked parted around his own, to the messy strands that hung into the blue eyes. The way Dean was watching his own hand wrapped around Roman's thick length, the way it felt even better than it looked.

Roman was spilling all over Dean's hand and his own belly before he knew it, moaning and arching and nearly knocking Dean off balance.

Then the room was quiet aside from the sound of their breathing. Roman wasn't positive if he could really hear their heartbeats or not but it wouldn't surprise him with the way his was hammering against his chest.

"Feel good?" Dean broke the silence and Roman laughed quietly. He could see Dean holding his hand up, sticky with the evidence of their dual orgasms.

"Yeah baby...I feel good," Roman said as he reached off the edge of the bed to grab the towel, wiping Dean down with it first before doing himself.

Dean was passed out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow and once Roman was spooned up behind the smaller body, he didn't follow too far behind.

* * *

The following morning they were up and about early enough, without an ounce of awkwardness to be found. Dean was more clingy than usual, staying close to Roman as they moved around the suite to get ready for the new day, but Roman didn't mind at all.

This is how he wanted it.

Meeting up with Seth and Sami, they headed out for breakfast at a cafe across the street. Dean had pancakes with chocolate chips and whipped cream and Roman couldn't keep his eyes off of him. They exchanged plenty of looks, most ending with Dean's shy smile and bowed head.

Seth made it a point not to look at Roman but Roman still felt like somehow Seth was seeing everything. Sami was his usual self, a bright ray of sunshine, sharing some of his cut up fruit with Dean.

Ghirardelli Square was up next on their list of adventures for the day so they found a place to park nearby and headed out.

"There's a famous chocolate store that sells really good chocolate," Sami was telling Dean as they walked along, "and they have a soda fountain and some neat shops."

Roman was sort of lost in his own world, trailing close behind the other two, with Seth pulling up the rear. That was just fine with him, he didn't feel like dodging any of his friend's looks of judgement. Instead he allowed himself to replay last night over and over in his head, trying to remember exactly how Dean sounded.

They made it to the chocolate shop and Dean couldn't pick out novelty chocolate items any faster, putting them into a hand held basket that Sami carried.

"You're going to be bouncing off the walls for days if you eat all of this chocolate," Sami warned but his smile was bright as he adjusted his newsboy cap and picked out a couple of items for himself.

"I'm sure Roman will regulate his intake," Seth grumbled from behind him and Roman paid him no mind.

After paying the largest amount of money he ever dared to dream for a bag full of chocolate, the four of them left the store and wandered out onto the streets. Dean was already tearing into one of the chocolate bars and Sami opened his own to share it with Seth.

Roman's pocket began to vibrate and he reached inside to pull out his phone. His stomach was already dropping before he even saw his father's name on the called ID. Shit, he had forgotten to call him back again earlier that morning. He had been way too wrapped up in Dean.

"Dad, I'm sorry I've missed your calls, I-" Roman was cut off immediately by a very angry Sika and he moved a few steps away from the group, keeping his mouth shut as he got chewed out.

He flinched at some of the harsh words being flung around but he knew he deserved it this time. He had really been letting his father, and their company, down. If only he could assure Sika that it was for a good cause- but would Sika even agree? Or would he turn Dean over to the authorities and get Roman back on track?

It wasn't worth the risk.

Behind him he could hear Sami and Seth continue to talk while Dean munched down on some chocolate, making sure to not totally zone them out. Not while Dean was with them.

And it was a good thing he did because about three minutes later, in the middle of trying to promise his father that he would get his work finished by mid-week, he heard growling. A very familiar, distinct growling.

He turned his head to find Dean in full on mutt mode, teeth bared, snarling, the whole nine yards. He was still and tensed up, the bag of chocolate dangling from his good hand, which was curled into a tight fist. His eyes were wild, looking off past the square. Sami and Seth were staring at him, with Seth pulling Sami a little farther away from him so he could step up and try to calm him.

"Dean...hey, what's wrong?" Seth was staying calm but something had Dean walking a very thin line between human and animal. It was unsettling enough to see and hear, considering how long that Dean had left that sort of behavior behind. But they were in public and they needed to put a stop to this. Fast.

Sika's voice continued to fill one ear as Roman turned his head to scan their surroundings, trying to find out what had Dean so riled up, backing up to close the space he had put between them.

Right as a tourist group passed by, opening up his field of sight, his eyes fell onto one familiar figure across the street. And it just so happened that this figure's gaze had fallen on him at the same time.

Kevin.

Roman's blood ran cold and he reached back to grab for Dean's arm. Kevin had spotted Roman but as soon as he saw Dean he began to gesture wildly.

"Over there!" he yelled and Roman wasn't going to stick around to find out who Kevin was talking to.

"Oh shit," Seth shoved at Sami's side while Roman hauled Dean away from the wall they were standing against, the bag of chocolate hitting the ground, scattering.

"Gotta go Dad," Roman hit end, cutting his father off in mid-yell, and shoved his phone into his pocket.

Tearing across the square toward the parking lot, the four of them were practically shoving people out of their way while Sami continuously apologized.

"Fuck, how did he find us?" Seth asked, breathless as they cut across the parking lot, trying to locate which row of cars they had parked in.

Roman looked over his shoulder. He could still see Kevin but there were a couple other men who he didn't recognize who were also coming their way. And they were coming fast.

Sami found the car first and Roman dug the keys from his pocket to unlock the doors. Dean was still growling when Roman shoved him into the car and slammed the door. As soon as they were all in he turned over the ignition and the engine of the vehicle roared to life.

"Hurry, he's right there!" Seth was yelling and Roman threw the car into reverse, just about to time Kevin reached them and practically jumped onto the hood.

"He's mine!" Kevin was screaming, "You can't hide from me! He's mine!"

Roman peeled out and sent the car in reverse, narrowing missing other parked cars, but it sent Kevin sliding off the hood.

"Drive! Drive!" Sami was panicking and Dean had gone deathly quiet in the passenger's seat, eyes wide and backpack clutched to his chest with both arms.

They made it out of the parking lot and Roman sped through a red light, lucky that no one had been crossing through the intersection at that time. Both Seth and Sami were turned in their seats, watching out the back window to see if they were being followed. Not taking any chances, Roman drove through several maze-like streets of the city before he pulled onto an interstate that led out of San Francisco entirely.

"I can't...fucking believe that just happened," Seth's voice was unsteady and Roman glanced over at Dean. He was still holding onto the backpack for dear life, staring out the window.

That was too close for comfort. Way too close. And it served as a reminder of a fact that Roman already knew- this was far from over.

About thirty minutes away from his house, Roman picked up his phone and made another call.

"What up, cuz?" the voice answered the other line after just two rings, "You just now remember I existed?' It was said in good humor but Roman really didn't have time for jokes right now.

"Hey Jimmy, uh, I hate to do this but can I ask you for a favor?"

"Yeah, of course," Jimmy was quick to answer, "what do you need?"

"A friend of mine and I need a place to crash in LA for a little while and I was hoping we could stay with you?"

"You know you don't even need to ask, cuz," Roman could hear the smile in Jimmy's voice and he sighed in relief, "it'll be nice to see you anyway."

The rest of the phone call was short, with Roman saying they would be in Los Angeles later that evening. He just needed to grab some clothes from the house, round up John Wayne, and they could head south.

"What are we supposed to do?" Seth asked once Roman was off the phone.

"Lay low...we know the kind of shit they're capable of," Roman brought a hand up to rub at his face while the other stayed firmly on the steering wheel. He glanced in the rear view mirror to make sure there wasn't a car noticeably following them.

"Yeah..." Seth trailed off and Sami was still rather pale, "we should probably stick together, Sami. Ask for a week off work or something, I'll cover your pay..."

The conversation in the backseat continued and Roman zoned out, glancing at Dean in concern. Dean hadn't moved, hadn't said a word. He reached over and placed a reassuring hand on his thigh and squeezed gently.

"No one's going to take you from me."

Roman wished he could be completely certain about that.


End file.
